The Price of Infamy
by Holly Jolly
Summary: FINALLY COMPLETE!!! Five years after Lecter's escape, special agent Clarice Starling enlists the unwitting help of the only person to have ever captured the Doctor. Please R/R!
1. Default Chapter: Clarice's Dilemma

The Price of Infamy  
  
Author: Holly Graham  
  
Author's Note: This story holds true to the storylines and endings of all three movies, "Red Dragon", "The Silence of the Lambs", and "Hannibal". It does not necessarily hold true to the storylines of the books. Also, the characters mentioned herein that belong to Thomas Harris are being used solely for entertainment. I am making no money from this story so please don't sue me! The rest of the characters are mine.  
  
Chapter 1: Clarice's Dilemma  
  
Clarice Starling, special agent in the FBI's Behavioral Science division, paced the interior of her office, deep in thought. Plastered to one wall was an enormous world map littered with red foil stars. Those stars represented confirmed sightings of fugitive and one of the FBI's Ten Most Wanted men, Dr. Hannibal "the Cannibal" Lecter. The other three walls were cluttered with pages of police reports, Lecter's victim's pictures and short bios, and copies of notes sent to her from the doctor himself.  
  
It had been five years since the 'dinner party' at Paul Krendler's summer home. Clarice grimaced at the fleeting memory of fried brain. Yes, five years since she had handcuffed herself to Dr. Lecter, thinking at long last that she had captured him and her nightmares were over. And it had been five years since he had chopped off his hand with a kitchen cleaver to escape re-confinement.  
  
Clarice sighed heavily and ran a hand through her shoulder length chestnut hair. She stood over her desk, hands on her hips, and stared unseeing at the latest sighting report that had been placed there. Subconsciously, she smoothed wrinkles from her knee-length pale blue skirt as her mind worked. She sighed again then smashed her fist onto the desk, picked up the papers underneath her hand, and flung them across the room.  
  
'Dammit,' she thought. 'This goddamn trivial "sighting" bullshit is getting us nowhere.' She sat down heavily at her desk and put her head in her hands. 'He has completely disappeared again. Even if the sighting turns out to be legit, he's gone weeks before we get there. This is a fucking waste of time.'  
  
In addition to her regular case load of unsolved crimes that needed her attention, because of her former contact with Hannibal Lecter, Clarice was regarded by the higher-ups in the Bureau as the reigning expert when it came to all Lecter matters and therefore, the assignment of his capture fell directly to her and only her. She had just returned from a meeting with the new Behavioral Science section chief and it had not gone well. Kendra Mitchell was the third section chief in the last five years. She was a ball-busting up-and-comer at the Bureau who had no qualms about shoveling shit onto her subordinates. Neither did she give second thought to stepping on people or destroying their careers as she climbed the success ladder. And she was determined to add to her list of accomplishments the capture of Hannibal Lecter.  
  
Clarice heard a knock on her door and looked up. Seth Williams opened the door slightly and peeked inside. Clarice smiled wryly at her contemporary and gestured for him to come in.  
  
"I wasn't sure it would be safe to enter," he smiled broadly. "You know, wasn't sure if you'd be throwing things around your office after your meeting with the Devil incarnate this afternoon." He glanced at the papers littering the floor. "Oh," he replied. "Guess you've already done that. Am I just in time for you to start throwing the heavy stuff?"  
  
Clarice grinned. Seth was exactly what she needed right now. He always knew how to put a smile on her face. Seth Williams was a special agent in the Behavioral Science division as well. Being African-American he understood how Clarice felt having to deal with many of the stereotypes from the other agents on a daily basis because he was subjected to many stereotypes himself. The two of them, Clarice and Seth, had become fast friends. She often considered him to be her mental life saver.  
  
"Sure," she replied. "At this point, I wouldn't mind picking up this desk and tossing it out the window." Clarice stood up and moved to the edge of the desk. "Here, I'll take this end, you take that. We'll shout out 'bomb's away' before we let go, okay? I can only hope Kendra is under it as it falls."  
  
Seth chuckled. "Your meeting went well then, did it?" he replied sarcastically.  
  
Clarice rolled her eyes. "Devil incarnate was in top form this afternoon, Seth." She sat back down in her chair. "She's demanding an answer as to why I haven't been able to capture Lecter in the last five years."  
  
Seth bent down to pick up the papers scattered on the floor.  
  
"Oh, no," Clarice beseeched him, "Seth, you don't need to do that. I'll get those later."  
  
"I'll get them now," Seth smiled. He placed them on her desk and sat down in a chair opposite the desk. "She asked why YOU haven't caught him? What about the rest of her damned department? If she's that concerned with actually finding Lecter, why doesn't she assign more of us to the case?"  
  
"That's exactly what I asked her," Clarice replied. "But she refuses to use more manpower on a case that as she said, 'should have been closed years ago'." Clarice sighed again. "I don't know, Seth, I'm thinking that maybe I've had enough of the Bureau's bullshit."  
  
"I can understand your desire to quit. I just hope you don't, Clarice. Give it some more time."  
  
She stretched her arms up high above her head, twisted her neck to relieve some of the pressure she felt there, and lowered her arms back to her desk. "I just can't do it, Seth. I cannot catch him," Clarice muttered and turned to look out her window. "He's too intelligent to be caught I think."  
  
"But he was caught once before," Seth said.  
  
Clarice looked back to Seth and pondered his statement for a moment. Then she nodded slowly. "True, but his capture was a fluke from everything I've read and heard around the Bureau. Lecter was working as a consultant with an agent to figure out who was committing the very crimes that Lecter in fact was when the agent finally figured out it was him. So it wasn't as if that agent tracked Lecter down out of thin air. It was all coincidence."  
  
"Maybe," Seth mused.  
  
Both agents sat quietly listening to the birds chirp outside. Suddenly, Seth's face brightened.  
  
"You know, Clarice," he said. "You could go talk with the agent that caught him in the first place. You know, just to get any information that he could offer." He shrugged. "Maybe it'll help."  
  
Clarice looked at him and furrowed her brow. "You're kidding, right?" she asked. "I really don't think that's a good idea. I heard that agent went crazy after he captured Lecter, even spent time in Belleview." She shook her head. "I don't think it'd be a good idea."  
  
"Oh, come on, Clarice," Seth pressed. "I heard that he's fine. He even tracked down another serial killer after capturing Lecter." At that comment, Clarice looked at Seth with disbelief written all over her face. "At least so I've heard," Seth continued. "Come on, what would it hurt to at least go and speak with him? Hey, it would get you out of the office and away from Devil incarnate for a couple of days at least."  
  
Clarice chuckled and shook her head. She looked around her office at all of the relatively useless information tacked to the walls and sighed inwardly. She was no closer to capturing Lecter today than she had been five years ago.  
  
"Maybe a different perspective would help," she said at last.  
  
Seth smiled. "That's my girl."  
  
Startled at the phrase, Clarice looked up at Seth. That phrase always took her back to the night Lecter had pinned her to the refrigerator. At one point, he had said those exact same words to her. He had said them softly, almost lovingly. He had said them as only either a lover or a father could have. She shook her head briefly to clear the memories away and focus on the task at hand. "But I need to find out everything I can about this agent before I attempt to meet with him," she said.  
  
Seth shrugged. "I don't even know his name."  
  
"It's Graham," Clarice said quietly. "Will Graham." 


	2. Chapter 2: Demons

Author's Note: Thank you so much, Danni, for reviewing! I'm so pleased you liked the first chapter.  
  
Chapter 2: Demons  
  
Will Graham rolled over in his bed and groaned. He was not ready to wake up yet. He willed his body to go back to sleep but something, some nagging thought kept tugging at his fevered mind. Was he supposed to be somewhere? He cracked one eye open to look at the clock. It was almost one pm. The sunlight beaming through the edges of the curtains blinded him and he snapped his eye closed again. Graham swallowed and grimaced at the sour taste and felt as if his throat were on fire. His head caused him an equal amount of agony, he felt as if it were in a vice grip being squeezed to a pulp. He groaned again, rolled onto his back, and placed his arm over his eyes.  
  
'Shit,' he thought as he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to have been at FBI headquarters for a meeting with the new chief of Behavioral Sciences at ten this morning. 'Oh, damn, what a shame I missed it,' he thought sarcastically. He chuckled to himself and a bolt of pain ripped through his head.  
  
Graham attempted to remember what had been the excuse he had used last night to begin drinking and he was unable to. He knew his excuses were becoming thinner and thinner. Some of his more recent excuses for his binges included the fact that there was nothing on T.V. or that he had stubbed his toe or that he couldn't find the clippers to go out and trim the hedge. God only knew what his excuse last night had been.  
  
Graham sighed and wished for at least the hundredth time in the last twenty four hours that he would die. He usually repeated this same wish approximately one hundred times every day. He longed for different days, days when he had been happy and complete, if not necessarily carefree. In a sudden moment of weakness, he caught himself reviewing the events of the last fifteen years. His injuries at the hands of the last two serial killers he'd caught, the media frenzy that surrounded his family immediately after the death of the 'Tooth Fairy', causing their pain and suffering to be played out under public scrutiny, his final retirement from the FBI, the counseling for traumatized Josh, the counseling for he and Molly to try and keep their marriage intact, his recurrent nightmares about human monsters that lurked through the dead of night, the pain killers that he washed down with glass after glass of alcohol, used at first to deaden only his physical pain and finally to deaden his emotional pain as well, and finally, Molly's inability to cope any longer with him or their circumstances and her subsequent departure with young Josh. Graham had not seen either Molly or his son in almost six years, they both refused to have anything to do with him.  
  
His tongue snaked out and ran across his dry, cracked lips. He realized he was thirsty. Graham heard his stomach rumble and wondered when the last time was he had eaten. His throbbing head couldn't tell him. He supposed he had better get up, take some aspirin, hobble out to the kitchen and see if he could find anything that even remotely resembled food.  
  
"Fuck it," Graham croaked. That required more energy than he was willing to devote at that moment. He pulled the sheet up over his face, rolled over, and began to breath heavy as he already drifted into light sleep.  
  
Will Graham did not like to be awake. The present carried too many painful memories and reminders of the past, although he worked hard to deaden his pain through prescription drugs and alcohol. However, most of the time he did not like to be asleep either for sleep held his demons, the inner demons he had carried with him for years now, a price of his imagination and a price of his former career as a special agent of the FBI.  
  
Before he drifted off into deeper sleep, his brain pondered the possible reasons his presence had been requested at a meeting at the FBI. The rookie agent who had called and told him he had better be there refused to give him any information as to the reason for the meeting and what might be expected of him. The phone call had left a bad taste in Graham's mouth (or was that the alcohol) for he disliked the FBI, he disliked rookies, and most importantly, he disliked being told what to do.  
  
A short time later, Graham was brought out of his slumber by an irritatingly insistent noise. He rolled over on his back, pulled the sheet off his face, and sat up quickly in the surprised manner of one who has been suddenly roused from a deep sleep. Another bolt of lightning shot through his head. He clutched it in both hands and groaned. He rubbed his eyes and blinked as they adjusted to the light. Graham realized it was the doorbell he was hearing. The doorbell had awakened him and it was being pressed repeatedly about every two seconds, causing his head to throb incessantly.  
  
Grumbling, Graham placed his feet on the floor and stood up. His legs threatened to buckle, but he held his stance. His head flared and his vision swam for a moment. He walked unsteadily out of his room and staggered to the front door.  
  
"Goddammit," he called as he fumbled with the locks and deadbolt. "This had better be good, like a gorgeous naked woman wanting to screw me or something. I swear to God.." He trailed off as he swung the door open and was greeted by a seemingly familiar face, although he could not immediately place it.  
  
"Good afternoon, Agent Graham," a slight southern drawl met his ears. "I'm terribly sorry if I have disturbed you. I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time since you missed the meeting this morning?" She paused for a moment and extended her hand. "I'm special agent Clarice Starling with the FBI."  
  
  
  
To Be Continued. Please review!! 


	3. Chapter 3: Kindred Spirits United

Author's Note: Thank you SO much to Drandmrslecter, Shattered Mug, Nanci, and James Anatidae for your kind reviews, it's nice to know someone is reading! Thanks again.  
  
Chapter 3: Kindred Spirits United  
  
Graham ignored Clarice's outstretched hand. "I'm not an agent anymore, Ms. Starling," he croaked.  
  
The afternoon sunlight pierced his eyes and he squinted them nearly shut. Clarice dropped her hand after a moment and stood there regarding him with a half smile on her face. She couldn't believe that this was the man who had captured Lecter. This hung over, hair tousled, foul smelling, broken down shell of a man had captured one of the greatest criminal minds this world had ever seen? 'Unbelievable' Clarice thought. Inwardly, she cursed Seth for giving her this idea to meet with Graham in the first place. 'What a waste of time this is gonna be,' she thought.  
  
"May I come in sir?" she asked.  
  
Graham hesitated for a moment but he was desperate to get out of the sunlight so he nodded and opened the door so she could walk in. He glanced down at himself and saw that he was clad only in his boxer shorts.  
  
"Shit," he uttered under his breath. "Um, if you'll excuse me for a moment, Agent Starling," he called as he bounded for his room. "I'll go change. Please make yourself at home."  
  
"Thank you," Clarice replied and looked around the tiny living room. There was a dingy, beat-up brown couch against one wall that sat opposite a tiny television set and a torn upholstered recliner against the other wall. The brown carpet was badly stained and looked as if it hadn't been vacuumed since 1970. Clarice sighed and gingerly sat on the couch. She looked at the walls, no photos, no medals, no awards or commendations adorned them, they were a stark blank white. She looked to the adjoining kitchen and saw dishes piled high in the sink and she detected a rank order wafting from it.  
  
Graham emerged from his bedroom and she noted he felt no need to dress up for her unannounced visit, he wore a pair of black cut-off sweat shorts, a white tank top and he had seemingly attempted to brush his hair down with his hands. He sat down in the recliner and it groaned under his weight, despite the fact that he was dreadfully thin.  
  
"I apologize for the mess," he shrugged at her. "It's the maid's day off."  
  
Clarice smiled at him painstakingly and slid to the edge of the couch seat, her navy blue skirt slightly riding up her thigh. Graham noticed the slight rise of her skirt appreciatively. Clarice dug in her briefcase for a moment and pulled out a manila case file marked "Classified" and set it on her lap.  
  
"Agent Graham," she smiled at him. "Let me be frank. I'm here to ask for your assistance."  
  
Graham eyed her wearily and shook his head. "I'm not an agent anymore," he replied.  
  
Clarice went on as if she hadn't heard him. "You are the only person to have ever caught Dr. Hannibal Lecter," she grinned wryly. "Well, let me rephrase that; you're the only person to have ever taken him into custody."  
  
Graham's head throbbed and there was a roaring in his ears. He was having trouble concentrating on her words. He longed to go back to bed. He rubbed his blood-shot eyes and rotated his neck in attempts to alleviate some of the pressure in his head. Clarice watched him silently and stone- faced. After a moment, Graham looked back at her.  
  
"I'm sorry, Agent Starling," he croaked. "I cannot help you."  
  
"I'm not asking for much, Agent Graham," she replied softly. "If I could just leave this case file with you for your review, that would be great." She paused. "If you were to decide to come back to work with us temporarily, you would be reinstated as a 'special agent', be given FBI identification and a gun and you would be granted full access to the buildings, computers, and files." She smiled. "It would be as if you'd never left."  
  
Graham stared at her in disbelief. 'God,' he thought, 'just what I want, to return to the FBI and the job that destroyed my life. "How many times do I have to say no?" He said and stood up to indicate the meeting was over.  
  
Clarice put her head in her hands for a moment then looked back up at him. "Please, Agent Graham, I have no where else to turn. I've run out of options.." she trailed off.  
  
"Obviously since you stooped to coming to me," he sighed. "But I cannot help you."  
  
"Please, Agent Graham," Clarice began.  
  
"I'm not an agent anymore, dammit, stop calling me that," he all but shouted at her, cutting her off. "You're not listening to me. I've said 'no'. I cannot help you." He paused and looked at her and his anger suddenly boiled up, fueled by his aching body and head. "You have no idea what you're asking me to do. You come here all prim and proper in your navy blue suit with your short skirt and flash your long legs and your bright smile at me in attempts to lure me back into the FBI's service. But I am not so easily manipulated, Agent Starling. My life may be shit but I do have some self respect. You have no idea what you're asking me to do." He repeated.  
  
Clarice stood up and dropped the case file back on the couch. She plucked her briefcase off the floor and strode to where Graham stood, near the front door. She was a good head shorter than he, but she looked at him levelly and he took an involuntary step back at the hardness he saw in her eyes.  
  
"Agent Graham," she said coolly. "Despite what you believe, I did not come here in an attempt to 'lure you back'. I came to ask for your help. It's simple, really, either you'll help me or you won't." She paused and Graham realized he had said those same exact words to Dr. Lecter when soliciting his help in capturing the 'Tooth Fairy'. That seemed like eons ago. "I'm leaving the case file with you," Clarice continued. "If you decide you absolutely will not help me then just send it back to me care of the Bureau. But I hope you'll change your mind. I need your help, Will, I need you." She stepped to the door, opened it, and then turned back. "One more thing Will: I DO know, better than anyone else, what I'm asking you to do. I know what it's like to live with the nightmares and the social isolation that this job creates. I know what it's like to wake up four times a night drenched in sweat because you see him in your dreams, his hand at your throat and his breath on your face. I know what it's like to be unable to get his fucking voice out of your head and begging yourself to slash your own wrists just to be rid of it. I know what it's like to constantly look back over your shoulder, to feel like someone is watching you, to question every phone call when there's no one on the other end." Graham looked at her face and noticed for the first time deep dark circles encasing her eyes from lack of sleep and stress. "Please help me," she pleaded softly. "Help me put an end to our nightmares. Help me and help yourself so that we can regain our lives. Think about it." With that she turned and made her way back to her car.  
  
Graham squinted in the sunlight and watched her walk away. He sighed when he closed the door and turned to see the case file lying on the couch.  
  
  
  
To Be Continued. Please review! 


	4. Chapter 4: The Good Doctor

Author's Note: Thank you so much to Shattered _Mug, the great red dragon, Steel, Saavik, EyeSeeU, and Allegretto Emily for your great reviews. I really appreciate them. I'm having a lot of fun writing this story and I'm glad that you are having fun reading it. Thank you.  
  
Chapter 4: The Good Doctor  
  
The waiter made his way through the crowded restaurant, weaving through the tangle of tables, precariously balancing the bottle of red wine on the tray he held. As he approached the small table tucked into the back corner of the restaurant, the man sitting there did not look up from his book.  
  
The waiter briefly studied the man as his head was bent. He was a little on the short side and he had a very slight bulging stomach although his upper body was large and powerfully built. There was no doubt in the waiter's mind that this was a man to be reckoned with. The man's thick black hair glistened in the low light of the restaurant's atmosphere. He was elegant in his stature and carriage of himself, even the movement of his hand as he turned the page of the book screamed refinement.  
  
"Your wine, sir," the waiter bowed his head slightly as he poured the rich liquid into the crystal goblet.  
  
The man glanced up and the waiter was struck at how piercingly blue his eyes were. Those eyes seemed to bore into the waiter. It seemed as if with the blink of an eye the man could see directly into his mind and probe his deepest, darkest secrets.  
  
"Thank you kindly," the man replied and flashed a brief smile. He spoke with a thick southern drawl that intrigued the waiter.  
  
The waiter suddenly wondered if the man was a descendant of some powerful southern plantation family. That would explain his refinement and accent. The waiter placed the bottle of wine in an iced wine holder.  
  
"Is there anything else I can get for you right now sir?" he asked.  
  
The man glanced up again and the waiter was pierced with those shocking eyes once more. "No, thank you."  
  
"Very good sir," the waiter bowed his head again and turned to leave.  
  
"Oh," the man said. "Just please be sure to remind the chef I would like my entrée as rare as possible, just very lightly browned."  
  
"Of course, sir," the waiter replied and mused on the oddness of the request as he walked toward the kitchen. The refined man had ordered veal which was not odd in and of it self. The odd thing was that he insisted the meat be extremely rare. He had already reminded the waiter of this fact three times now. The waiter shook his head. 'Rare veal?' he thought and grimaced. 'No one eats rare veal. That's just gross.'  
  
Dr. Hannibal Lecter smiled to himself as the waiter departed his table. He could tell that the uncivilized young whelp of a waiter found his entrée choice distasteful and the fact amused Lecter to no end. 'One must have one's fun when one can,' he smiled to himself again.  
  
Lecter stared, unseeing, at the book of modern poetry on the table in front of him. Suddenly he blinked and looked discreetly about the crowded restaurant to see if anyone was observing him. Couples young and old chatted merrily with each other, most with eyes only for their lover. Business men and women debated at various tables and were too absorbed in their latest business conquest to worry about what was going on around them. Everyone was too absorbed in their own table mates to pay the old man sitting alone in the corner much notice.  
  
When he was sure that no one was watching him, Lecter pulled a worn picture with frayed edges from his suit jacket pocket and placed it on the book in front of him. He carried this picture with him continuously, wherever he went. While Hannibal Lecter did not necessarily need the use of a picture, he could merely escape into his memory palace, he found the image of this picture comforting so he kept it. He stared down at the angelic face of his beloved, his Clarice. It was a picture taken about three years ago as she had sat in the park chatting with her best friend and former roommate Ardelia Mapp on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Lecter had snapped it in an instant that Clarice had laughed. He had captured her laughing, bright face, eyes gleaming, chestnut hair blowing faintly in the breeze. As always, she had been blissfully unaware that he was watching her. It was better that way.  
  
Lecter sighed inwardly and looked up from the photo. He glanced over at a young couple sitting in the booth to his immediate left. They sat as close to each other as possible, holding hands under the table as they waited for their meals to arrive. Lecter watched as the young woman laid her head on the young man's shoulder and he kissed it lightly. Then she raised her head and smiled at him sweetly. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. His words made her blush slightly and she giggled into her hand for a moment before he tilted her chin up and kissed her passionately.  
  
Lecter smiled longingly and his gaze returned to Clarice. His finger gently stroked her profile and his mind wandered. He recalled how she had come to his rescue five years ago, saving him from Mason Verger's vicious man-eating boars. He recalled returning the favor when she had been wounded, carrying her through the swarming mass of boars to her waiting car outside. He remembered taking her to Paul Krendler's summer home where he had instructed Mr. Krendler in the importance of civility and politeness. Lecter grinned slightly at the memory of Mr. Krendler ingesting a piece of his own brain. Lecter had outdone himself that time.  
  
Lecter closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He knew he should stop this, he was in a public place and these memories, their memories, always caused him to break down. Lecter put his head in his hands for a brief moment then regained his composure, lifted his head and looked around the restaurant again. Seemingly no one had observed his breach of etiquette. He sighed outwardly this time and looked at his picture again.  
  
'Oh hell,' Lecter thought. He had taken the memories this far, he might as well see them through to their conclusion. He recalled every detail about that night, about her, vividly. He recalled how Clarice had attempted to club him with a candlestick. He remembered the struggle that had ensued and how he had pressed her up against the age-old refrigerator and finally closed her long ponytail into the door so she was unable to move much. He remembered how her body had felt pressed against his. In that moment he had memorized each tantalizing curve of her body. With little effort, he could to this day still smell the lotion that he had rubbed into her skin prior to dressing her, a scent of jasmine, and how smooth her skin has felt under his hands. How many nights had he lain awake, alone in his bed, and imagined how it would feel to run his hands along those curves, how it would taste to lick their combined sweat from her body after making love?  
  
Lecter breathed deep and closed his eyes again. He recalled his and Clarice's most intimate moment together. While she was trapped with her hair in the refrigerator he had said to her, "Tell me, Clarice, would you ever say to me 'stop. If you love me, you'd stop'?" She had replied coolly, "Not in a thousand years." In that moment, Lecter's heart had shattered into a million tiny pieces. His protégé, his beloved, the only woman he'd ever truly loved and deeply cared for, had rejected him. In that moment, he had realized her true feelings for him. She saw him only as a monster, despite the fact that she had shared intimate details with him about herself, and she would stop at nothing to put him back behind bars.  
  
Despite his broken heart he had echoed her words, "Not in a thousand years." To test how well she knew him, he had made a quick movement toward her face with his mouth open and teeth bared, as if to bite her. She had not flinched. She had not even batted an eye at him. He had smiled solemnly and replied, "That's my girl." He had known then that despite her seeming feelings of loathing for him, the intimate bond that they seemed to share was still intact for she had known instinctively that he could never intentionally hurt her. Lecter had been overjoyed and had leaned in and kissed her. He recalled how sweet her lips had tasted with a trace of wine still on them. How many times since then had he imagined how delectable her mouth would taste? She had not kissed him back but instead had locked a hidden pair of handcuffs to his left wrist. But he recalled how a single tear had slipped down her cheek as he broke their kiss. Although to this day, he was undecided as to whether that tear had been shed in regret, longing, or fear.  
  
Lecter opened his eyes then as his own tear slipped down his cheek in remembrance and longing. He wiped it away quickly. She was all he wanted, all he desired but their love was not to be. She would not give in to her darker side and allow herself to love him, Lecter knew that with certainty. So he had resigned himself to being her guardian angel. He watched over her and made sure she was safe and relatively happy. Within the last five years since their encounter, Lecter had perfected the art of disguise in order to maintain his inconspicuous role in her life and to keep anyone else from recognizing his famous features. He had become a master with latex facial pieces such as noses and chins. He wore wigs and toupees and sometimes colored contact lenses or glasses. He had mastered diverse accents in order to pass as a tourist. All in all, Hannibal Lecter was content. He was content with his role in Clarice's life. At least for now.  
  
But Lecter could feel a restlessness building inside him, a restlessness that he worked daily to squelch. This restlessness made him desire to reveal himself to Clarice, to once again profess his love. He knew the time for this was swiftly approaching, much as he attempted to fend it off, for he knew it would probably result in his capture.  
  
He heard the uncultured waiter approaching and hurriedly closed his book of poetry with Clarice's picture still inside.  
  
"Your dinner, sir," the waiter smiled and placed the plate in front of Lecter. "Can I get you anything else?"  
  
"No, thank you," Lecter replied.  
  
As the waiter departed, Lecter took one look at his veal and sighed. It was much too overcooked for his liking although blood pooled around it. 'This is why I much prefer to dine in,' he thought to himself as he cut into the meat.  
To be continued!! Please review!! 


	5. Chapter 5: Clarice's Realizations and W...

Author's Note: See the end of the chapter for personal responses to your reviews.  
  
Chapter 5: Clarice's Realizations and Will's Decisions  
  
Clarice Starling stormed into her office, threw her briefcase across the room, and slammed the door behind her. The briefcase hit the opposite wall with a 'crack' and fell to the floor. She had driven the thirty miles from Graham's home in Quantico, Virginia in about thirty minutes, committing countless traffic violations as she went. Clarice leaned against her office door with her arms folded across her chest and fumed for a moment over her encounter with Graham. Then she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the door for a moment. She re-opened them and turned to look out the window. One nice thing about having moved out of her basement office was the fact that she had a nice view now. Darkness was just settling over the city of Washington D.C., the red-orange glow of sunset fading into a deep purple-blue.  
  
FBI Headquarters was practically deserted and Clarice was glad about that. She did her best work at night after everyone had departed for home and loved ones. She supposed this was a benefit to having no loved ones of her own waiting for her at home, she could work as late into the night as she wanted.  
  
Clarice strode to the window and opened it. She leaned down, closed her eyes, and breathed in deeply the rich evening scents. For some reason night time was when she felt closest to Dr. Lecter, as if a bond was forged between them. At night it seemed she could almost sense where he was and all too often she felt he was near.  
  
She heard the door to her office open and fearing it was her boss, Kendra "the Devil incarnate" Mitchell, Clarice put on the best smile she could muster. When she turned around, she saw Seth standing there instead. He returned her smile bleakly, closed the door to her office, and sat down in the chair facing the desk.  
  
Seth was extremely curious about Will Graham. From everything he'd read and heard about the former agent, he was an odd man to work with; quiet, unassuming, often working through the night, but that he was an intellectually powerful man who had done his job in a way that no one else seemed quite capable of doing. Seth grinned. He sounded just like Clarice. He looked at her and realized she was watching him steadily.  
  
"Well?" Seth asked.  
  
"Well what?" Clarice retorted. "What are you doing here so late anyway? Don't you and Ardelia have a date?"  
  
Seth grinned. "No, she cancelled. She had to work late." Clarice had introduced Ardelia to Seth and the two had hit it off from the beginning. They had been dating for several months now. "I was hoping you would come back here after your appointment." He paused. "What's he like?" Seth smiled. "Graham?"  
  
Clarice rolled her eyes and turned to look out the window again. Her first impression of Graham was not good. He was foul, rude, and obviously had serious chemical dependency issues. But she could not deny the realization that was now staring her in the face. She looked back at Seth, who smiled expectantly.  
  
Clarice shrugged her shoulders. "What's he like?" she echoed. "He's like me." She sighed again. "When I look at him, I see my future. At the rate I'm going, I see myself in 15 years." She shook her head slightly and placed it in her hands. "Oh God help me."  
  
Seth's smile turned sympathetic as he watched his friend grieve at the vision of her future. "Is he gonna help you?"  
  
She looked up at him, her fingers rubbing her temples. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I left the case file with him in hopes that he'll take a look at it at least. He wasn't very keen on the idea of delving back into the world of Dr. Lecter." Clarice managed a wan smile. "Can't say I blame him. We'll see. I don't know. So how pissed was the Devil incarnate when I left this afternoon?"  
  
Seth winced. "Let's just say that if she had been able to get her claws into you, you'd be dead."  
  
Clarice fumed. "She expects me to catch Lecter and yet she makes it almost impossible for me to do so. I swear to God, most of the time I feel as if I'm forced to operate with one hand tied behind my back. Dammit!" she exclaimed.  
  
"Well, darlin', you did outright disregard her order to forget the whole Graham angle after he failed to show for the meeting."  
  
"So I went to him instead of making him come to us. So what?" Clarice was outraged. "I need his help. I really think he could be of great use in Lecter's capture. But our boss doesn't seem to understand that."  
  
"Kendra's concerned, Clarice. She doesn't think Graham is entirely stable. Some of the older agents say he's become an alcoholic and something of a drug addict," Seth replied. "Did you see any signs of chemical abuse?"  
  
Clarice, who in recent years had come to know the pitfalls of temporarily subduing one's emotional pain with alcohol, groaned inwardly. "So the guy's got some problems. Again, so what? It's not like I don't have any problems myself. Hell, anyone who is masochistic enough to allow Lecter into their head is bound to have problems. The point is, I'm drowning and I need help."  
  
"And you think Graham will be your savior?" Seth chuckled slightly. "God, talk about a codependent relationship. Well, look on the bright side, if the two of you are able to catch the 'Good Doctor', maybe he could help you both overcome your chemical abuse problems." He laughed heartily at his own comment.  
  
Clarice raised her middle finger at Seth and attempted to look outraged although he could see that she stifled a chuckle herself. Seth yawned and stretched his arms high over his head.  
  
"It's getting late, Clarice," he said. "I better get home." He stood and made his way to her office door. He turned back. "Don't stay too late tonight, huh?" He grinned mischievously. "You do need your beauty sleep you know."  
  
Clarice picked up her stapler and heaved it at her friend. "Kiss my ass, Seth," she laughed as the stapler struck him in the thigh.  
  
Seth laughed back. "Anytime, love, just name the time and place!" He paused, still smiling. "Good night, Clarice."  
  
"Good night, Seth."  
  
He closed the door behind him as he walked out. Clarice grabbed her "stress ball", a small rubber hand ball that she would either squeeze to relieve stress or bounce against the wall repeatedly. The repetitive motion seemed to help her think. Now she began to bounce the ball on the floor. It would strike the floor, hit the wall, and bounce back to her. She repeated this as she mulled over her encounter with Will Graham.  
  
Initially he had pissed her off royally by his indignant comments but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that he was simply afraid. And why shouldn't he be? Clarice chided herself, she had handled the whole situation incorrectly. Perhaps she should have been more understanding of his feelings and spoken more softly to him instead of storming out the door. Once again, she had let her temper and quick tongue get the best of her and instead of convincing him to help her, she had probably alienated him completely. Clarice shook her head, stopped bouncing the ball, and buried her head in her arms on her desk. Had she looked out the window at that moment, she might have noticed the elegantly dressed gentleman with black hair and strong arms leaning against a light pole across the street from the Bureau, smoking an expensive cigar, and looking up in the direction of her window.  
  
  
  
Clarice Starling's visit caused Will to decide to use a glass tonight instead of just swigging straight from the bottle. He had decided he should cut down on drinking. He filled the glass half full of ice, looked at it, and dumped the ice out into the sink. He wasn't ready to cut down that much yet. He grabbed the Scotch bottle out of the cupboard and filled the glass full. As he placed the lid back on the bottle, he glanced at the case file sitting innocently on the couch, where Clarice had left it.  
  
Sighing, Will placed the bottle back into the cupboard. With his drink he walked into the living room, sat down on his beat up recliner, took a long drink, and turned the TV on. As he flipped through the channels of the usual crap that was on TV these days, his eyes continued to dart to the case file on the couch.  
  
"Stop it, dammit," he finally croaked to himself. "You told her you wouldn't help with the case. You're not going to open that file so stop torturing yourself."  
  
After he had flipped through every TV channel four times, he made an exasperated noise and turned it off. He sat in his recliner and sipped his drink. His eyes darted again to the case file. It had been years since he'd actually seen Dr. Lecter or heard his voice but to Will it seemed like just yesterday. As if in response to his thoughts, his left side began to ache slightly. Will knew the pain was all in his head, several therapists had told him so, but he raised his tank top slightly anyway to view the jagged scar on the left side of his stomach. Will ran his right index finger slowly across the scar. He closed his eyes and the memory that filled his mind was Dr. Lecter plunging a stiletto knife into his stomach as he'd turned around. He had not even heard the doctor come back into the room. Will had stood in the doctor's study and had just realized that Lecter was in fact the killer he was looking for when he spun around and was surprised by the knife. He remembered Lecter's breath on his face, just as Clarice had said. He remembered Lecter calling him brave and saying he would eat Will's heart.  
  
Will jerked his eyes open. He sighed shakily and ran a hand through his faded blonde hair. In the eight years that he had been back in Quantico, his hair had faded immensely in the dim sunlight and had almost faded to brown. He decided that his hair had grown too long for his taste and he decided to get it cut first thing in the morning. Will had originally returned to Quantico just after his divorce, thinking he would see if he could get a teaching position at the FBI training facility. His good intention of becoming gainfully employed and once again being a productive member of society had yet to be pursued.  
  
'Think about it,' he heard Clarice say as she had walked out the door. Will glanced at the case file again. He was tempted to pick it up and rummage through it. Tempted to see what new info if any she had collected on the doctor. Tempted to try and assist. He put his drink down on the floor and nervously twiddled his fingers against the arm of the recliner as he contemplated the emotional and psychological damage those actions could inflict upon him.  
  
Suddenly, Will shook his head. What was wrong with him? Why had Clarice's words had such an effect on him? He remembered how tired and drawn her face had been. He remembered her words, 'I have no where else to turn.' She needed his help. For the first time in seemingly forever, someone needed him.  
  
He sighed shakily. It had indeed been a long time since he had last been needed or even wanted. And then, out of the blue, this federal agent shows up on his doorstep and asks for his help. This agent who reminded Will of himself in his heyday, this agent who understood Lecter as well if not better than Will did himself, this agent who recognized and understood Will's nightmares because of the 'Good Doctor'. Yes, he had to admit, this agent intrigued him immensely.  
  
Will looked at the clock on the wall and saw that this was about the time he took his evening dose of pain medication. Will's medication of choice had become Percocet although recently he was becoming tempted to advance to something stronger, the Percocet wore off all too quickly now. He had been addicted to the medication for many years now although his doctor had quit prescribing it to him shortly after his initial hospital stay due to his incident with Francis Dolarhyde. However, thanks to his connections in the Bureau, Will had had no problem in tracking down a street dealer who was able to supply him with his needed medication.  
  
Will's eyes again darted to the case file. Clarice needed him. She wanted him to help, but Will knew that to help meant becoming clean and making Dr. Hannibal Lecter a huge part of his life again, allowing the doctor free roam of his mind again. The sacrifice seemed almost too great just to be needed by someone again. The conflict within him was almost more than Will could bear.  
  
Suddenly, his mind seemingly made up, he snatched his drink off the floor, stood up, and strode to his bedroom to retrieve his Percocet and take his usual dose. Then he paused in the doorway and turned back to look once more at the case file. In his mind, he heard Clarice say in her throaty Southern drawl, 'Either you'll help me or you won't.' He pondered the file for a moment then quickly swallowed the remainder of his drink. He set the glass down on the dresser that sat next to his bedroom door and walked on shaky legs back to the couch. Before he had time to consider the consequences of his actions, Will Graham pulled open the case file and delved back into the mind of madness.  
  
  
  
To Be Continued. Please review!!  
  
Mary: Thank you so much for your kind review, I'm so glad you are enjoying my story.  
  
Nanci: Aww, thanks so much for the kudos for Chapter 3. I spent days pondering and then re-writing Clarice's exact final words to Graham and I'm so glad you appreciated them. Thanks again.  
  
Nanci: I'm so touched that I was able to evoke that emotion in you on Chapter 4. Again, it was a chapter that I worked for about a week on to get Lecter's emotions the way I wanted to express them. Your reviews are so great, you have a way with words and review very nicely. Thanks so much.  
  
Schrander: Thank you for reading and reviewing. I am the type of person who loves character development (which most movies don't have the time in which to delve into much unfortunately) and I'm glad that you found Clarice and Will true to their characters. Thank you.  
  
Saavik: Thank you for your review. LOL, I agree completely, I cannot stand rare meat, it's absolutely disgusting. LOL!!! Again, thanks for reading and reviewing.  
  
EyeSeeU: Well, they will not meet up for awhile yet but when they do, it'll be good! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it.  
  
Take care everyone and I'll see you next chapter. 


	6. Chapter 6: Late Night Rendezvous

Chapter 6: Late Night Rendezvous  
  
It was well after 2 am when Hannibal Lecter let himself into the Washington D.C. suburban townhouse. As always he could not turn on any lights, suspicions would be aroused. It was alright, he preferred the darkness anyway. Darkness held a calming aspect for him. He was intrigued by the way darkness played on the visual cues from your mind, obliterating most colors and giving surroundings a surreal, dream-like effect.  
  
Lecter slipped the keys into his jacket pocket, removed the jacket, and hung it on the coat rack near the front door. Over the last four years or so, he had become quite acclimated to moving through the townhouse in the darkness and stillness of late night. He moved easily through the living room and halted at the hallway that led to the rear of the townhouse where the bedrooms were. His acute hearing picked up the steady sound of rhythmic breathing from someone deep in sleep.  
  
He smiled and instead of going down the hallway, turned left and made his way into the spacious kitchen. For a moment he admired the adept cookware, from the stainless steel pots and pans that hung suspended above one of the counters to the finest cutting utensils that money could buy. Yes, the cookware had cost him a pretty penny but it was uncivilized to cook with anything less.  
  
Lecter strode to the refrigerator, opened it, and pulled out a bottle of water. He swallowed half of it, capped it, and returned it to the fridge. He glanced at the small plant on the windowsill, a Bleeding Heart plant, and noted that it needed water. He took a glass from the dish drainer, filled it with tap water, and poured the water into the plant's soil. The Bleeding Heart would have to be planted out doors within the next month if it was to thrive and grow, he mused.  
  
He left the kitchen then and walked slowly down the hall to the bedroom where the rhythmic breathing came from. As he approached the doorway, he slowed his pace even further, listening for any sounds of stirring that would indicate arousal from sleep, but he heard none. Lecter smiled to himself. She was sleeping rather soundly tonight, she must have had a busy day.  
  
Lecter paused in the doorway and looked down at his sleeping Clarice. She was wearing her pink silk pajamas tonight he noticed. Her deep chestnut hair was drawn up in a ponytail and her angelic face was freshly scrubbed and shone even in the dim light. He smiled as her mouth opened slightly and a faint snore emitted from it. He wondered what she had done today to cause her to sleep so soundly tonight.  
  
He had followed Clarice, as he did every night, home from FBI Headquarters when she had left at 11 pm. For her, that hour of departure was early. Usually she worked until at least after midnight, ironically, diligently working to locate him. Lecter had parked in his usual spot down the street from her townhouse in his Jaguar XKR convertible. Lecter had always appreciated fine material objects, but he found the older he got, the more he desired to be surrounded by fine things. This car was no exception. Fortunately for Lecter, because of the late hour that Clarice returned home at night, Lecter and his fine automobile generally went unnoticed by the slumbering neighborhood. In addition, police officers rarely patrolled this neighborhood, he had noticed. They were generally occupied with the slums of the inner city and left the prosperous neighborhoods on their own.  
  
He would sit in his car, usually reading or working on his memoirs. He would watch as Clarice would eventually turn out all the lights in her townhouse, then he would wait until he saw the flickering light coming from her bedroom window as she watched TV go out. Once he observed the TV going off, Lecter would wait for an hour or so before entering her residence. He used to pick the lock before Clarice had had the locks changed. Then all he had had to do was lift the key off the locksmith, make his own copy of it, and return it to the locksmith before it was given to Clarice and no one was the wiser. Once inside, Lecter always made sure that Clarice was sound asleep before continuing through the home. Some nights he would wander her home, studying pictures, photo albums, books, or correspondence, just to feel closer to her. He did not have to worry about leaving fingerprints that would identify him, for he did not have any anymore. He had slowly but surely removed his fingerprints by applying small amounts of acid to his fingertips, thus he could roam her house with no misgivings. On other nights he would lie on her couch and listen to her breathe throughout the night. But most nights he would sit in her room on the floor, his back against the side of her bed, lay his head down and watch her sleep. Some nights he even worked up the nerve to touch her hand or her face but because she was quite often such a light sleeper, he usually did not dare. Tonight, however, because of her deep sleep, he reached his right hand out and gently stroked her cheek.  
  
Ah, just to touch her was like oxygen to his weary soul. He wished for the thousandth time in the last four years that he could climb in bed with her and hold her until the sun rose. What he would not give if he could live with her by his side, to have her smile up at him gently and tell him she loved him. Lecter removed his hand from her cheek and closed his eyes. He was feeling rather melancholy tonight which was not like him. Suddenly, he felt old beyond his years. He was old and tired. Tired of running, tired of hiding, just plain tired. He longed for a "normal" life. A nice house in the suburbs, two cars, maybe a dog, even a white picket fence perhaps? The American dream. And of course that dream couldn't be possible without Clarice by his side.  
  
A poem he had read in his book tonight occurred to him suddenly. Normally, he found poetry to be overly dull and sappy but he had observed this particular book, a collection of poetry, upon Clarice's bookshelf and had bought a copy for himself. This particular poem was titled "Bid Me to Live" by Robert Herrick and it had touched Lecter deeply. It had reminded him of his relationship with his beloved. He recalled the poem now as he listened to her steady breathing next to him.  
  
Bid me to live, and I will live  
  
Thy protestant to be;  
  
Or bid me love, and I will give  
  
A loving heart to thee.  
  
A heart as soft, a heart as kind,  
  
A heart as sound and free,  
  
As in the whole world thou canst find,  
  
That heart I'll give to thee.  
  
Bid that heart stay, and it will stay,  
  
To honour thy decree;  
  
Or bid it languish quite away,  
  
And 't shall do so for thee.  
  
Bid me to weep, and I will weep,  
  
While I have eyes to see;  
  
And having none, yet I will keep  
  
A heart to weep for thee.  
  
Bid me despair, and I'll despair,  
  
Under that cypress tree;  
  
Or bid me die, and I will dare  
  
E'en death, to die for thee.  
  
Thou art my life, my love, my heart,  
  
The very eyes of me;  
  
And hast command of every part,  
  
To live and die for thee.  
  
Indeed, Lecter would die for Clarice if it ever came to that. He would do so gladly if it meant her safety and happiness. That was one reason why he had severed his own hand in Paul Krendler's summer home in Chesapeake Bay instead of hers when she had handcuffed herself to him. He could never harm her, harm himself, yes, but never her.  
  
Lecter smiled faintly as he recalled the instant he had dropped the kitchen cleaver down through his left wrist. Searing, blinding pain had bolted through him, Clarice had screamed in agony at his barbarism, and he had struggled to remain conscious. He remembered Clarice had collapsed onto the floor. Blood had poured from the stump of his left arm. He remembered he had used a kitchen towel and tied a tourniquet around his arm to keep from bleeding to death. He recalled filling a Zip-Lock storage bag with ice cubes and plunging his severed hand into it. Then, fighting to keep from slipping into shock, he had picked up the bag, bent down and planted a kiss on Clarice's head, and stumbled out into the night. He had been able to hear police cars coming up the road to Krendler's home as he made his way clumsily through the brush and surrounding woods.  
  
The remainder of that night was a blur now. He vaguely recalled stealing a truck and driving to a hospital where he had snuck in and bandaged himself up and loaded himself up with pain medication before driving to the Baltimore/Washington International airport. He had managed to board a plane before the FBI had sent its warning out to the area's airports with his description. From there he had flown to Quebec, Canada where he had called in a favor from a former patient of his, an orthopedic surgeon who specialized in limb reattachments. The surgeon had flown to Quebec and reattached Lecter's hand in time to make the reattachment successful. There had been many long hours of painful rehabilitation but now, five years later, Lecter had regained almost complete use of his left hand, although he still occasionally had trouble grasping things. And thanks to the miracle of cosmetic surgery, his scar was just about gone. Getting rid of the scar helped to insure that when he donned his various disguises he would not be recognized because of it and so there were few places that he hesitated to go.  
  
But he did not dare be around Clarice when she was not sleeping, for she would know him anywhere and with any disguise. So rather than being around her physically, he made sure she knew that she was always in his heart by sending her notes or gifts. The Bleeding Heart plant had been a gift two months ago on the five year anniversary of their kiss at Krendler's home, as had the cookware on different occasions. He wished that he could have seen her face when the plant had been delivered to her office. He smiled as he recalled what he had written on the accompanying card, "My Darling Clarice, Happy Anniversary, You are always in my thoughts, Forever your humble servant, H." Despite the way Clarice felt about him, Lecter was tickled that she retained the presents he sent to her on a regular basis. Subconsciously, he mused, she must have feelings for him, not just because she kept his gifts but also because she rarely if ever took a lover. In the last five years, she had only had two lovers. One had been an agent in the FBI's violent crimes division. Their relationship had begun shortly after Clarice had returned to work after Lecter had escaped. It had only lasted four months however, because the agent was killed in the line of duty. What the FBI and Clarice did not know however, was that Lecter had paid a heroin addict a hefty sum to ambush the agent and kill him. Lecter had made the decision to have the agent killed after he had discovered he was sleeping with another woman besides Clarice. Clarice had briefly grieved the loss but in the long run she was better off. Lecter would make sure she was always happy and safe. Her second lover she had picked up in a bar about two years ago after she had been wounded in a mini-mart robbery one evening. She had stopped in just to pick up a bottle of Pepsi when the thief had drawn his gun, ordered everyone down on the floor, and demanded the money from the cash register. Clarice had thwarted the robbery attempt but a bullet had grazed her thigh, and came mere millimeters to severing her femoral artery. She had been so shaken by the incident that she had gone to a bar and picked up the first man she could find. It had been a one-night stand and she had never seen him again.  
  
Granted, it had been difficult for Lecter to have to wait in his car as he watched the candle light from inside her bedroom flicker and imagine another man's mouth and hands on her. But they had been fleeting relationships and Clarice had not developed any strong personal attachments to either one of them so Lecter had gritted his teeth and endured them. After all, she had a bond with him, not with those other men. It was him that she would one day realize she loved and needed and always had. Lecter just knew it.  
  
To be continued. Please review!!  
  
Nanci: Your reviews are great. Thank you for your kind words. Will Graham as a character intrigues me and I have a lot of fun getting into his "head" (much as he would with the serial killers he tracked) and writing him. Thanks for your continued reading and supportive reviews.  
  
Luna: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Yes, I love to throw in little tidbits like "the lamp post thing" and tease you guys with it! Thanks again.  
  
Steel: Thank you for your review. Can I ask, why DO you hate Will Graham? I haven't quite figured that out yet! Thanks for reading.  
  
LadyOfTruths: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing.  
  
Shattered Mug: I love getting your reviews, they're great! I'm so glad that you are enjoying this story. It's a huge compliment to me when you say that despite the fact you are not a huge Will fan, I have your "undivided attention" even when it comes to him. I really appreciate that. You will have to wait a little bit longer for the GD and Clarice's meeting, but I promise, it is coming! Thanks again. 


	7. Chapter 7: Partners

Chapter 7: Partners  
  
The next morning was overcast, drizzly, and cold. Clarice clutched her knee length leather jacket around her small frame tightly and bent her head down to keep the drizzle out of her eyes as she trudged from the parking lot to the FBI building. She was late this morning, having uncharacteristically overslept, and that had already put her in a sour mood. Then the morning commute into the city had been horrendous; there had been several auto accidents due to the slick roads and that had made her even later. Of all the mornings to be late, this was not a good one. Clarice had no doubt that her boss Kendra would be on the warpath after Clarice had defied her orders yesterday and gone to see Graham.  
  
'Dammit,' she thought. 'Why do people have to drive like assholes when it rains? I swear, I can't believe I'm this damn late. Kendra's gonna...'  
  
"Agent Starling?" a voice from behind interrupted her thoughts.  
  
Clarice whirled around, shielded her eyes against the light rain, and looked up into the face of Will Graham. She was stunned by his initial physical transformation; his hair was cut short, he wore a white shirt and tie, albeit they could use ironing, he had obviously showered because he was pleasant smelling, and he was clean shaven, although Clarice noted amusedly about six nicks on his cheeks and chin as if he were out of practice. Then she suddenly realized how relieved she was to see him.  
  
"I'm glad I caught you before you went in," he smiled slightly and pulled at his tie a little self-consciously.  
  
"Agent Graham," Clarice smiled. "Thank you so much. You don't know how much your assistance on this case will mean to me."  
  
Will shook his head. "Don't thank me, I haven't done anything."  
  
"You showed up this morning," Clarice replied. "That is something. I will probably never know the courage it took for you to come here."  
  
Will shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets, looking embarrassed. "Speaking of courage," he replied and glanced up at the towering FBI building. "I'm not quite ready to venture back into that building yet." He paused. "Too many memories; good and bad."  
  
"I understand," Clarice said softly and ran a hand through her hair. "Ich, we're getting all wet. Come on let's get out of the rain. We'll get some coffee or something and compare notes."  
  
Will nodded and followed Clarice to her car.  
  
  
  
In one of the corner diners in downtown D.C., the waitress showed them to their booth. She laid their menus down on the table as Will and Clarice removed their jackets and sat down.  
  
"Can I get you two some coffee?" She asked.  
  
Clarice nodded. "Yes please. Black."  
  
"Just water for me please," Will replied.  
  
The waitress nodded and walked away. Will placed the Hannibal Lecter case file on the table and slid it toward Clarice while she wringed some water out of her hair and then shook it out. Will watched her for a moment before closing his eyes. He put his head in his hands, and rubbed his temples. He felt as if there were a jackhammer in his head. As he did so, Clarice noticed a slight tremor in his hands and wondered for the umpteenth time in the last day about his reliability given his addictions. Will opened his eyes and looked at her.  
  
"Agent Starling," he began.  
  
"Please, call me Clarice."  
  
He nodded. "Clarice, before we explore the parameters of our professional relationship, I have to say something. If you can look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you want my help, then I am willing to help you track down and incarcerate Dr. Lecter," Will said.  
  
Clarice looked at him. "Please, Will. I need your help. I really do."  
  
Will nodded grimly. "Okay, partner." He paused. He hated the idea of saying these next words to her but he knew he must. "But before I can help you, I need you to help me."  
  
"What is it?" Clarice asked, afraid of what he might actually need her help in doing.  
  
Will sighed heavily and habitually ran a hand through his hair to remove it from his face but because of its short length, this motion was unnecessary. "As you must undoubtedly know, I am an addict....." he began.  
  
At that moment, the waitress placed their drinks on the table and eyed Will, having overheard his last statement. She pulled out her order pad. "What can I get for you two?"  
  
"Nothing," Will snapped at her and put his head in his hands again.  
  
The waitress furrowed her brow and looked at him, irritated by his sharp tone of voice.  
  
"I'm sorry," Clarice smiled at her. "We're fine for now. Thank you."  
  
The waitress nodded at her and moved away to wait on her other tables. Will looked at Clarice, attempting to stifle the throbbing from behind his eyes. He needed to get through this quickly before he lost it.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said. "I feel like shit. I haven't had my pills today," he managed a wry grin. "Anyway, as I was saying, I am an addict. I am addicted to Percocet and alcohol and before I can help you fully on this case, I've got to get clean. I need your help to do that."  
  
Clarice sipped her coffee and nodded her head. "That's not a problem. I'll make a few calls and we'll get you into an excellent rehab center. You won't have to pay a dime for that of course, the FBI will cover the expense..." she trailed off as she noticed Will shaking his head.  
  
"There isn't time for that Clarice," he muttered. "Rehab takes at least a month, usually longer for Percocet addiction, and this case can't afford that kind of time." He paused. "If my hunch is correct, then YOU can't afford that kind of time."  
  
"What hunch?" Clarice asked, dreading his answer.  
  
Will grinned at her again. Despite his misgivings, he was enjoying putting his brain to work again. "Our Good Doctor is much closer than you seem to believe. I think he's close, very close, probably has a home on the east coast somewhere. From what I read in the notes he has been sending to you, his latest correspondence seems to carry an air of desperate longing, an urgency if you will, and I think he's making plans to confront you. I have no idea what the confrontation would result in, but in any case, we need to locate him before he can contact you. We need the upper hand, the element of surprise. My spending over a month in rehab would cause us to lose that surprise, I'm sure of it. We need something faster."  
  
Clarice stared at him in stunned silence. He had only had the case file for one night and already he had developed a theory that neither she nor anyone else had even considered. 'Imagine what we could accomplish with him clean and sober,' she thought. 'And if his theory is correct, my God. He's right, I've got to find Lecter before he finds me. And I cannot do that alone.' "Alright Will," she looked at him levelly. "If you don't think rehab is the answer, what do you propose?"  
  
To be continued! Please review!  
  
Author's Note: I apologize I know this chapter is short. Before I can continue, I need some information that I'm having trouble locating so the next chapter may be awhile in coming. That's why I stopped here. See ya next time!  
  
Steel: LOL, I agree with you about Crawford, too bad he died!! Otherwise he would be in for some 'fun' in my story! Thank you for reading and reviewing.  
  
Kurt: Thanks for your review, the 'Dr. Lecter as well Dr. Lecter' part had me laughing! Thanks again.  
  
Shattered Mug: As always, I love your review! And I'm sorry for your wait! Thanks for your continued reading and support.  
  
Nan: Thank you for reading and reviewing. Your review was very poetic and I enjoyed it very much. Thank you.  
  
Luna: LOL to your sniffling doc! I know, I know, you're all hyped for Clarice and him to get together. But see, this is where I have my fun! I get to torture you all!! Thanks for reading and reviewing.  
  
LadyOfTruths: LMAO to your review! I agree completely with both of you, but Crawford's dead. Unless I just resurrect him somehow! Anyway, thanks so much for your review.  
  
Schrander: Thank you so much for your kind review. I'm so glad people are enjoying this story. Thanks again.  
  
Screaming Lamb: Thank you! I loved your review. I'm glad you enjoyed my Quebec mention! And although I am biased, I agree with you that this is one of the best Will Graham fics!! But in the movie the character is played by one of my favorite actors so how could I not like him and attempt to write him well?!! Anyway, thanks again for reading and reviewing. 


	8. Chapter 8: But Not Tonight

Author's Note: I owe a huge debt of gratitude to the following people: Susie (Kaw) for your tireless assistance in locating withdrawl information, MC for your assistance in proof-reading my chapters and offering encouragement and advice, and to James for the courageous story you shared with me.  
  
Chapter 8: But Not Tonight  
  
As Clarice pulled her black 2000 Ford Mustang 5.0 into the garage and shut off the engine, the little voice inside her head began its tirade again. 'What am I doing? I am not a doctor. I have no idea how to care for a withdrawl patient. Besides that, if Kendra finds out what I'm doing, she'll chew my ass up and spit it out. At the very least, I'll probably lose my job and at the worst, I could do jail time. I am insane, why did I agree to this?'  
  
She shook her head to clear away the thoughts. "Oh shut up," she grumbled to herself.  
  
Clarice knew exactly why she had agreed to this; it was the only choice that made sense. 'God help us,' that voice chimed in again.  
  
Clarice sighed. There was no turning back now. She climbed out of the car and began to carry bags of groceries from the trunk into the kitchen. She set the bags down on the counter and looked around at the bleak white walls. She had brought Will here this morning after their conversation in the diner. This is what his idea had been. He had asked Clarice to bring him to this FBI safehouse in the rural areas outside Quantico. She recalled their conversation in the diner.  
  
"I need you to take me to the Quantico safehouse," Will had said. "I should be able to get the keys, I just need a ride out there. I don't trust myself to drive right now. I cannot do this at home. The safehouse is a neutral location." Suddenly he had closed his eyes and put a hand over his stomach. He groaned slightly.  
  
"Will?" Clarice had leaned forward and put her hand on his arm.  
  
He had waved a hand in her direction. "I'll live. I've got to make this quick," he had said. He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Here's my plan: you drive me to the safehouse and leave me there for a few days. I go 'cold turkey' to get this shit out of my body. Then when I'm functional again, you come pick me up and we get to work."  
  
"That's insane," Clarice had protested. "You want me to leave you there alone? Do you have any idea what you're going to go through during the next few days?"  
  
"I already have some idea," Will had answered and clutched his stomach again. "I know its going to be extremely unpleasant but it'll be over in a few days."  
  
"Extremely unpleasant?" Clarice had echoed. "Will you're gonna go through hell and back."  
  
"It's gotta be done, Clarice," he had said softly. "I'm to the point where I've got to get clean or kill myself. I have to do this. And this way is a hell of a lot quicker than a month in rehab slowly lowering my dosage to come off it."  
  
"True, it will be quicker," Clarice had sighed and shook her head. "Okay, suppose I agree to this. Once you're there how are you going to take care of yourself? You're gonna need someone there to make sure you're alright."  
  
Will had shaken his head. "Absolutely not. I don't want anyone else there. I don't want to be seen that way."  
  
Clarice had leaned across the table and looked directly into Will's eyes. "I cannot let you go through this alone. I know you're independent, believe me, I'm the same. I know how difficult it is to let someone help you, especially someone you barely know. But you said you need my help, and you're gonna get it all the way. You need someone there to help you through this."  
  
Will had wanted to argue further, but his throbbing head and the beginnings of nausea and stomach cramps wouldn't let him. Already his body was rebelling. It had been about 24 hours since his last pill and he knew this was only the beginning. He had agreed reluctantly. They had left the diner and plans had been laid. Clarice had called her office and told them she had a family emergency and would be out at least a week. Will had contacted an old friend in the Bureau whom he had worked with in the past and had eventually procured the keys to the house. The agent had told them he'd do his best to keep their usage of the house under wraps for all their sakes. But he had been very worried about them being found out and him losing his job and future pension. Then Will had quietly reminded him of the time when he had taken a bullet for the man, possibly saving his life.  
  
"Save my life now. Please." Will had pleaded and the keys had been handed over.  
  
Now Clarice began to separate the groceries, putting the perishables away and getting out all of the pills her doctor had recommended for Will. Before she had gone to the store, she had called her personal physician to get advice on helping someone go through Percocet withdrawl on their own. After she had assured him that it was not for herself, he had recommended vitamin B complex, lots of liquids, Tylenol PM, as well as an herbal medication to help ease jitters and anxiety. Clarice had also picked up some Pepto Bismol, hoping it would help with the nausea.  
  
She gathered up the medicines and a bottle of water and headed up the stairs toward the master bedroom. Clarice had given Will this room because of its adjoined bathroom although, ever chivalrous, he had at first insisted she take this room. Again, she had won that argument because of his physical discomforts. She knocked on the door.  
  
"Come in," Will called faintly.  
  
Clarice entered the room and saw him curled up on top of the bed in the fetal position. On the way here, they had stopped at his home and she had helped him pack a bag of clothes. She noticed he had managed to change into sweats and a white undershirt. As Clarice walked in, he clutched his stomach and groaned faintly. He was shivering. She walked over and sat down gently on the bed.  
  
"Will," she said, "you need to take these." She held out the pills.  
  
He did not open his clenched eyes. "What is it?"  
  
"Its vitamins, Tylenol, and an herbal pill called Hops. They're doctor recommended." She smiled.  
  
"Yeah, so were my pain meds," Will groaned. "Tylenol? Yeah, like that'll do anything to help. That shit is so weak even pregnant women are allowed to take it." But he opened his eyes and she helped him sit up so he could swallow the pills.  
  
"You should get under the covers," Clarice said and stood up. She began to pull the bed spread and blankets down.  
  
"Clarice," he muttered. "Go away. Let me die in peace."  
  
She ignored his last comment. "I'm not leaving until you get under the covers," she insisted. "I want to be sure you're warm enough."  
  
"Stop mothering me, Clarice."  
  
"Then stop acting like a spoiled brat and let me help you." She spat out, irritated at his insistent independence. She wondered if this is what she was like to deal with during her stubborn moments.  
  
Will looked up at her face and saw her determination. 'God she's as stubborn as I am,' he thought. He sighed and slid off the bed, groaning every inch of the way hoping to make her feel bad for making him move. She pulled the covers down, helped him get back into bed, and covered him up. She felt his forehead to make sure he did not have a fever. He clenched his eyes as another wave of stomach cramps hit.  
  
Clarice looked at him, concerned. "I picked you up some Pepto Bismol, do you want some?"  
  
"It won't help," Will grumbled. "You didn't happen to pick me up some Percocet did you?" He chuckled faintly.  
  
Clarice shook her head and grinned. 'He's still got his sense of humor,' she thought and wondered how much longer it would hold on. She set the bottle of water on the bedside table. "You need to drink as much water as possible," she stated. "It'll help flush the narcotics out of your body."  
  
Will nodded slightly. "Sure, Doc."  
  
Clarice put her hand on his shoulder. "Can I get you anything?"  
  
"How 'bout a gun?" Will chuckled again then groaned as the movement pained his stomach.  
  
"Nope, sorry," Clarice smiled slightly. "If you need anything besides a gun, just holler, okay?"  
  
He nodded again and slumped his head back down on the bed.  
  
  
  
That evening, Hannibal Lecter parked his Jaguar in the usual spot a few blocks down from the FBI building. He waited until the parking lot was nearly deserted before exiting his car and making his way toward the building. He reached the corner and looked up to the window of Clarice's office. To his utter surprise, the light was not on. He glanced at his watch, it was only seven pm. 'Surely she hasn't gone home this early?' he mused. Lecter scanned the parking lot quickly for her Mustang and did not see it. His instincts flared and told him that something was not right. Clarice's behaviors over the last 24 hours had been uncharacteristic for her and this was the icing on the cake.  
  
The drizzle that had been falling in the morning had turned into a downright pouring tonight. Under his black umbrella, Lecter frowned. Perhaps she was on to him? Maybe he was being watched and tracked right now. He shook his head. 'Impossible,' he snorted. 'She would have given some indication that she suspected my presence.' Still, Lecter had to know what was going on, he could not shake the idea that she knew he followed her. He walked to the pay phone down the street and dialed the Behavior Science division number.  
  
After four rings, the night answering service picked up. "FBI, Behavioral Science Division."  
  
"Clarice Starling, please," Lecter said in a west coast accent.  
  
"I'm sorry, she is not in," the female voice said. "Can I connect you to her voicemail?"  
  
"This is officer Henry Locke with the Los Angeles Police Department and it is vital that I speak with her immediately my dear."  
  
"One moment, please," came the reply and there was a long pause at the other end.  
  
Lecter waited patiently and watched the rain drops collecting in the puddles. He glanced around once or twice to see if he could detect anyone observing him but he saw nothing. The answering service came back on the line.  
  
"Officer Locke? I'm sorry but Agent Starling is actually out of the office for the remainder of the week. Can I transfer you to another agent?"  
  
Lecter was silent. His instincts had been correct, something was wrong. Instantly, his internal radar kicked in to sense any surrounding danger but he sensed nothing out of the ordinary.  
  
"Officer Locke?" asked the female voice again.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm here," Lecter replied. "Listen love, I would hate to disturb another agent after work hours. Agent Starling left a message for me to call her, that it was urgent, something about the case she's working on. I really need to speak with her. Please be a dear and give me a number where she can be reached at."  
  
"I'm sorry sir but I cannot disclose that information. If you would like, I can transfer you to another agent who can help you."  
  
"Listen, dear," Lecter's voice rose ever so slightly. "I've been overly patient thus far but a little bit of professional courtesy from you would be appreciated. Agent Starling left a message for me this morning to call her ASAP. Perhaps you could explain to me why she would do that if she was going on vacation for the remainder of the week?"  
  
"I apologize, Officer Locke," the answering service operator replied slowly. "But I'm afraid I don't know. Please hold for a moment sir."  
  
Lecter rubbed his eyes slowly while he waited for the operator to come back on the line. He had almost lost his cool with that contemptible woman. He was just not himself lately.  
  
"Officer Locke? This is special agent Seth Williams, Agent Starling's colleague. How may I assist you?"  
  
'Excellent,' Lecter thought. 'Williams is Clarice's friend. He'll know where she is.'  
  
"I'm so sorry to disturb you, Agent Williams. That daft operator is absolutely incompetent." Lecter chuckled amicably. "It sounds to me like you guys are feeling the budget cuts about as painfully as we are. I apologize if I was short with her but I am in need of help."  
  
Seth smiled into the phone. "It's not a problem, Officer Locke, I know how frustrating these after hours answering services are. Now, what I do to help you?"  
  
"Agent Starling left a message for me this morning saying it was urgent that I call her. I've been in briefings all afternoon and have been unable to return her call until now. Then the operator told me that she is out the rest of the week. I'm just a little confused, Agent Williams. Why would she leave this urgent message for me if she was going to leave for vacation?"  
  
"Officer Locke, I'm afraid she had a family emergency this morning, that is the reason for her absence. But I imagine that if it is indeed vital that she speak with you, she will contact you again soon," Seth replied.  
  
"Oh my," Lecter said coolly. "I do hope her loved ones are alright."  
  
"I do too."  
  
"Still," Lecter sighed heavily. "I would feel more comfortable if I could talk to her tonight. Did she leave a number where she can be reached?"  
  
"No, Officer Locke, I'm sorry, she did not," Seth said.  
  
Lecter shook his head, this was getting him no where. He needed to get off the phone.  
  
"Alright then, I'll leave it up to her to get in touch with me. Thank you so much for you assistance, Agent Williams. Have a pleasant evening," Lecter said.  
  
"Thanks and you have a good evening as well, Officer Locke."  
  
Lecter hung up the phone and his eyes darted around his surroundings. He wondered again if he was being watched. There were a few cars parked on the street but none of them appeared to be occupied. He scanned the building rooftops as best he could but saw nothing. Lecter took a deep breath, told himself to relax, and cursed his weakness. It was unlike him to be caught by surprise and to be this rattled. Perhaps he was too close to the situation and his judgment had become clouded. In his desire to be close to Clarice, he had forgotten rule number one: do not get caught.  
  
Lecter shook his head. Despite his desire to live a relatively "normal" life, he needed to remember that he was a wanted criminal first and foremost. He scanned the street and rooftops again then exited the phone booth. Instead of walking to his car, he walked five blocks in the opposite direction until he came to the Hyatt hotel. While he did not feel as if he were being watched or followed, he decided to take no chances. He would stay here tonight instead of possibly leading the FBI to his home. He needed a good night's sleep to clear his head so he could get a better view of things tomorrow.  
  
As he walked into the hotel lobby, Lecter thought about Clarice and wondered where she really was and what she was really doing.  
  
  
  
To be continued!! Please review!!  
  
LadyOfTruths: LMAO!! The "zombie Crawford"!!! I love it!! Since you're in to Will torture, stay tuned, more to come (but I won't say anymore!). Thanks so much for reading and reviewing.  
  
Schrander: Well, that's not exactly what Will had in mind, but close. Thanks for your review and kind words.  
  
LittleMy (Jenny): Thanks for reading and reviewing. Thank you so much for your compliment, it means a lot when people tell me I put them in the story. Yes, the good parts are coming between Hannibal, Clarice, and Will! Thanks for your support.  
  
ShadowPanther: Thank you so very much for reading and reviewing. I'm so glad you are enjoying the story. I'm having a lot of fun writing it. Thanks again.  
  
Kurt: Almighty Grand Poobah, thanks so much for reading and reviewing. I appreciate your compliments. Thanks so much.  
  
florence: Thank you for your kudos, you're very kind. I'm so glad you're enjoying this. Yes, I think the part everyone's anticipating is coming up soon!!  
  
Steel: LOL! "Pretty boy"! Thanks for reading and reviewing. I love your reviews!  
  
Shattered Mug: LMAO!! I laughed so hard when I read your review! I kick ass? Cool. LOL. Thanks again! 


	9. Chapter 9: Dirty and Clean

Author's Note: Thanks again MC!  
  
Chapter 9: Dirty and Clean  
  
Agent Seth Williams stood over the corpse and placed his hands on his hips. The late afternoon sun glinted off the water of the nearby river, blinding him momentarily. Despite the sunshine, there was a chill in the air and a frigid breeze whipped the coat tails of his jacket out behind him. Already he could smell the sickly-sweet odor of the beginnings of decomposition. He debated about trying to reach Clarice on her cell phone, it was important to her to see fresh crime scenes, and decided against it. If she really did have a family emergency, and God knew she did not have much family left, then she had enough to deal with right now.  
  
"Try to get as many visual details as possible," Seth told Ted Shelton, the crime scene photographer. "Clarice'll want to see everything."  
  
Ted nodded and the strobe flash of the camera continued. Seth wandered over to where the Portland P.D. officers stood in a cluster, heads bent, stamping their feet to keep warm, speculating on the culprit of the grisly scene.  
  
"Where's the woman who found the body?" Seth inquired.  
  
The police captain stepped forward. "She's in my squad car, Agent Williams." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his car.  
  
"Thanks Captain Ford," Seth replied and made his way to the car.  
  
A young Asian-American woman sat in the rear seat of the squad car, sipping a cup of water provided by the officers. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her face was pale and drawn. She wore white sweat shorts and a navy sweat shirt. Her black hair was drawn back into a ponytail.  
  
"Excuse me miss," Seth knelt down next to the open rear-seat door. "My name is special agent Seth Williams with the FBI and you are Moira Chang?"  
  
The girl barely nodded. Seth put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I understand how difficult this is for you but do you think you can tell me how you found him?"  
  
The girl looked at him and nodded slowly. She took a deep breath and began. "I come out here every morning to jog before classes, you know? I like to run next to the river and listen to the birds calling each other. It's usually deserted and quiet. I've been jogging this trail for the last two years and I've never had any problems." Moira paused. "I've certainly never seen anything like this."  
  
"I know," Seth said softly. "Trust me, I've seen hundreds of crime scenes and it never gets easy to look at. It's okay. Just take a deep breath and continue."  
  
Moira looked at him. "I was just running and I saw something at the edge of the river. The sun was glistening off of it so I couldn't tell what it was. I stopped, shaded my eyes, and then I saw. And that's it." She paused again and hung her head. "I didn't mean to throw up."  
  
Seth smiled gently. "Don't worry about that. It's not a problem." He stood up. "Thank you so much, Moira. I'm gonna go talk to the police officers but if you think of anything else you think might have bearing to this case, please let me know okay?"  
  
She nodded slightly again and sipped her water.  
  
Seth walked back over to the officers.  
  
"So this is another Hannibal Lecter victim, huh?" Captain Ford asked.  
  
Seth looked at him. "It would appear so. Thank you for calling us, Captain. Of course we'll need all your initial findings so we can compare them with ours. Also, let that poor girl go home; she's been here all day. We've got her info in case we need to contact her again." The captain nodded. "Now, if you'll excuse me," Seth said and moved away from the group.  
  
Seth sighed. It had been almost a year since Dr. Lecter's last known murder. Since his escape five years ago, he had single-handedly tracked down and murdered 10 known sex offenders. At first, the FBI had thought they'd had a serial killer with a twisted agenda on their hands but Clarice had voiced an opinion that it was in fact Dr. Lecter.  
  
"Oh come on, Starling," Michael Boyd, another Behavioral Science agent had argued. "It doesn't fit his MO."  
  
"No it doesn't," Clarice acknowledged. "But I think in his own morbid way he's trying to assist us."  
  
"What makes you think so?" Seth had asked.  
  
"The cuts are thin and even, made by steady hands and someone either very calm, very experienced, or both. The weapon appears to be a stiletto knife, one of Lecter's weapons of choice. Major organs are missing, heart, kidneys, livers, assumably intended for future meals. We know that he has an aversion to rudeness, especially the overwhelming rudeness of sex offenders. And finally, every victim has the word 'Guilty' carved into his back. When Dr. Lecter was offering his assistance on the Jame Gumb, "Buffalo Bill", case, I remember one time he said to me 'In your heart of hearts, do you not hope, do you not believe that one day the guilty will all receive their day of reckoning?' I didn't think much about it at the time, but it certainly makes sense now."  
  
Agent Boyd had shaken his head. "I don't buy it. In the past, he tended to stick to people he knew. He didn't randomly pick strangers. I don't think he'd change his MO. I really don't." He grinned. "I mean just because you have some kind of weird crush on Lecter doesn't mean he's the only one capable of such actions."  
  
Clarice chose to ignore the last comment. "Think about it, Boyd," Clarice had argued. "He hasn't had patients in years, he most like has no ties really. Besides, like I said, I really think he's trying to help...in his own sick way."  
  
The determining factor had been a note from Lecter himself. He had asked Clarice how she had felt seeing the word 'Guilty' on the victims' backs. That particular detail of the murders had not been made public in the fear that it would inspire copycat murders. Hannibal Lecter had then been declared by the FBI to be the suspect.  
  
Now, as the 11th victim was fingerprinted, Seth shook his head and headed back to the crime scene.  
  
  
  
Over the next seven days, Will's symptoms slowly decreased. The nausea, stomach cramps, chills, and headaches had lasted another day and then had been followed by a bitter acrid metallic taste in his mouth that could not be squelched, insomnia, intense back and neck pain, and the jitters. On several occasions, Will had begged Clarice to hand him a gun, tears streaming down his face.  
  
Day five had been so excruciating that all he could do was kneel, wrap his arms around himself and rock back and forth. He couldn't sit too long, it hurt his back, he couldn't stand too long, he got leg cramps, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat, minutes seemed to stretch out into hours and hours into days, all he wanted to do was die. Clarice had come into the room in the mid-afternoon with more pills and Gatorade because he hadn't eaten anything in days. She had found him on the floor in his kneeling position, rocking, holding his head in his hands and sobbing.  
  
"Oh my God," she whispered. "Will, why didn't you call me?"  
  
"Go away," he sobbed into his hands. "God just leave me alone."  
  
She grabbed the bedspread off the bed, sat down beside him, wrapped it around him, and pulled him close to her. It killed her to see anyone in this kind of misery. He resisted at first, then allowed her to pull him close. He sank down and put his head in her lap. He pulled the bed spread over his head and continued his sobbing into it.  
  
"Sshh," Clarice whispered to him gently rocking him back and forth. "It'll be alright." They had sat like that for hours.  
  
The following day, his back and neck pain had subsided but despite the herbal medication, the jitters had set in with a vengeance. At noon, Clarice had carried a tray with some soup on it up to his room. He had been lying in bed and his arms and hands had shaken so badly, she'd had to feed him. Thankfully the soup stayed down and he had eaten almost the whole bowl.  
  
That night, after another bowlful of soup, the jitters having subsided, Will freshly showered and changed into jeans and a white tee-shirt, Clarice smiled and declared him to be well on his way to recovery. Will smiled back bleakly.  
  
"Yeah, thanks to you."  
  
"How are you feeling?" Clarice asked him.  
  
"Like I'm sick of soup," he chuckled. "No, seriously, I haven't felt this alive in years. I owe you big time. I have a difficult time saying thanks, but thanks." He paused and she nodded. "Hey, did you happen to buy any junk food when you went shopping?"  
  
Clarice laughed. "Well.." She trailed off.  
  
"Come, on, don't hold out on me. What'd you get?"  
  
"Ben and Jerry's ice cream. I was saving it for when you got better."  
  
"What flavor?" He asked with wide eyes.  
  
"Chunky Monkey and Mint Chocolate Cookie," Clarice grinned sinfully.  
  
"Well what are you waiting for, partner, go get it," Will laughed.  
  
When Clarice came back into the room, Will was flipping through the TV channels. He stopped on one that was showing the movie "Dragnet".  
  
"Oh man," Will laughed. "I haven't seen this movie in ages. I loved the TV show. When I was a kid, I wanted to be Joe Friday."  
  
Clarice handed Will the carton of Chunky Monkey and a spoon and sat down on the bed next to him. "That was WAY before my time," she replied mischievously. She opened her Mint Chocolate Cookie and dug into it.  
  
"Oh, whatever," Will retorted in between spoonfuls of ice cream. "You're not that much younger than I am."  
  
Clarice feigned outrage. "What? Try about fifteen years, thank you very much." She paused. She glanced sideways at him. "Old man."  
  
Will grinned and shook his head. "Yeah, okay," he chuckled. "I'm gonna remember you said that when I'm the one bringing Lecter in."  
  
Clarice grinned and took another bite of ice cream. They sat together for a moment, watching the movie and eating.  
  
"Will can I ask you something?" Clarice asked in between spoonfuls.  
  
"What?" Asked Will through a mouth full of ice cream.  
  
"What happened to your marriage?"  
  
The spoon of ice cream paused halfway to Will's mouth briefly. He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "Well that's the question of the ages, Clarice," he smiled painfully at her. "I've been asking myself that same question for years."  
  
Clarice looked at him and saw his pained look. She touched his arm. "Hey I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business."  
  
Will looked at her. "No, it's fine, you're just curious. Really, I don't mind talking about it." He sighed and shook his head slightly. "I guess after awhile my wife, Molly, just couldn't handle me bringing my work home." He chuckled slightly at his joke.  
  
"You didn't bring it home with you, it followed you home," Clarice corrected.  
  
"Same thing," Will said. "She couldn't handle it. I can't say I blame her. I mean, God, marriage is difficult enough without throwing a serial killer who holds a knife to your son's face into the mix. I have Dr. Lecter to thank for that, though." He looked thoughtful for a moment and took another bite of ice cream. "Of course my subsequent addictions didn't help our marriage either."  
  
"Did she try to help you through that at all?"  
  
"She did initially," Will nodded. "But in my stupidity I pushed her away. I was too proud and physically and emotionally hurt. I shut everyone out. Molly got fed up, took our son, and left and it's my own damn fault."  
  
"I don't believe that," Clarice said. "Maybe if she would have just held on a little longer you two could've made things work."  
  
"Could've, should've, would've," Will rolled his eyes. "It does no good to dwell on that shit, it'll just fuck with your mind."  
  
"Well, at the very least you should be able to see your son."  
  
Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "He does not want to see me," he replied quietly. "They're back at her folks place in Oregon and Josh won't even talk to me anymore. I think it's partly because of what he went through with Dolarhyde and I think it's also partly because I became an addict. I really miss him."  
  
"Maybe at some point you should try to call him again. You're clean now, maybe that'll make some difference," Clarice said.  
  
Will shrugged. "Maybe. God, he's nearly a grown man now. I think about him all the time. You know, I wonder what he looks like now, how tall he is, if he's playing football or taking art classes or if he's got a girlfriend." A small smile played on his lips. "Maybe you're right, Clarice. Maybe when all of this is over I should try calling him. I mean, hell, the worst he could do is hang up on me again. At least then I'd know."  
  
Clarice took another bite. "So despite what happened with your first marriage, you think you'd ever get married again?"  
  
Will shrugged. "I don't know. To be honest I don't think I could ever find a woman who would put up with me for very long. I don't think anyone will ever really be able to understand me and what I've been through thanks to my FBI days." He looked at her and grinned. "Why, are you asking me Agent Starling?"  
  
"What? No!" Clarice laughed but Will noticed that her cheeks flushed slightly.  
  
He laughed and took another spoonful of ice cream. "And what about you, Clarice? Do you ever think about getting married, having some kids, owning a big house in the suburbs, a dog and a white picket fence? You know, living the proverbial American dream?"  
  
Clarice sighed. "I don't know. When I was younger, the only thing that mattered to me was my career. But now..." she trailed off. "Lately I wonder if I've made the right decisions in my life."  
  
"It's difficult to remain loyal to a system that exploits your talents then turns it's back on you when you need it the most," Will replied softly.  
  
"Exactly," Clarice nodded and looked at him. "Sometimes I wonder if in my ambition, I have given up my chances at having a family." She paused. "Now I'm afraid I'm too old to begin one."  
  
"Please," Will scoffed. "Two minutes ago you were telling me how young you are, now you're too old?" He shook his head. "You're not too old, Clarice. But if that's what you really wanna do, then you need to start making plans to make it happen."  
  
They sat for a moment, side by side, eating ice cream, and pondering the decisions they each had made that had brought them to this point.  
  
"Besides," Clarice finally concluded, "like you said, I don't think I could ever find someone to put up with me, someone who could accept me for who I am just the way I am, faults and all." She paused and looked thoughtful. "Despite it's ending, your marriage did have its good times right?"  
  
Will smiled sadly and nodded. "Yeah. When it was good, it was really good. After I'd retired from the FBI..the first time..when we were down in Florida, I've never been that happy. It was just Molly and Josh and me. And at night it was just Molly and me and that was even better."  
  
Clarice smiled, leaned her head back against the headboard and closed her eyes. "Shit, I'm sorry Will." She paused and he shrugged. "Sometimes it would be nice to just have someone to share my life with, you know? Someone I could talk to about my day and actually have him understand what I was dealing with at work, you know?"  
  
Will looked at her. "I do know." He replied softly.  
  
Clarice opened her eyes, and turned her head to look at him. They gazed at each other for a moment before Will glanced down at her ice cream.  
  
"Hey partner, wanna trade?" He asked and smiled.  
  
Clarice grinned and handed over her carton, taking his in return. She had to admit, it felt good to not only finally have a partner, but one who understood her.  
  
  
  
To be continued. Please review!  
  
Nan: Thank you! This is actually something I picked up from some of the other Star Wars FanFiction authors. Plus, I think that people who are kind enough to not only read but actually review my story should be thanked personally. I'm very appreciative of all feedback. Thanks again!  
  
Kurt: Yes, I have seen "Trainspotting." I enjoyed the movie a lot but I must admit that the "swimming" scene was a bit gross!! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing.  
  
Shattered Mug: This fic cannot be good for your health? LMAO!!! Your reviews are always great! As far as Will not getting too close, I'm sure I'll get a page full of review from you after this chap!! Thanks so much and see ya next chapter.  
  
guber: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I'm so glad you like the story.  
  
LittleMy (Jenny): I had to laugh over your review! Yup, Hannibal's definitely obsessed with Clarice isn't he? Yes, SOTL is too awesome. My father and I went to see it when it originally came out and afterward we would always repeat the lines that Lecter said and the rest of our family had no idea!! It's too cool! As far as Hannibal killing Will...I'm not saying a word...you have to keep reading!! Hey thanks so much for your review (even if you were drunk!).  
  
EyeSeeU: Aww, thanks for your kind review. When I originally read the book "Red Dragon" right after SOTL came out, the character of Graham intrigued me with how he was able to get into a killer's mind. I only wished that Hannibal had been given more print in the book but that's a different subject! Then, as you said, when I learned they were making the movie and that Ed Norton was playing Graham, I knew it would be excellent. Thanks again for reading and reviewing.  
  
florence: Thank you for reviewing. I'm churning this story out relatively quickly (for me) because the ideas just keep flowing. I'm glad you're enjoying it. Thanks again. 


	10. Chapter 10: Full Circle

Author's Note: As always, thank you MC for your help.  
  
Chapter 10: Full Circle  
  
Zachary Matthews walked through the door of the house, threw his backpack onto the couch, and made his way into the kitchen. He was famished. After last night's exertions, he had awakened too late this morning to eat breakfast..  
  
"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day young Zach," he heard HIM, his mentor, his master, say in his head.  
  
..and he'd had a study group in the library all through lunch. Zachary opened the fridge and peered inside. He pulled out a cold piece of leftover pizza..  
  
"You should not eat that waste, Zach, it will poison your mind." Again, it was HIM.  
  
..and a Coke and plopped down on the couch to see if there were any new developments in the latest Lecter murder. He flipped on the news but they were reporting on the latest economic cutbacks so he'd have to wait for what he wanted to see. As he chomped his pizza and guzzled his soda his thoughts turned to his master. He called the man his master for Zachary owed the man everything, including his very life.  
  
He smiled as he recalled meeting the man four years ago. The night had been cold, bitterly so. Zachary had been thrown out of his father's house after he had graduated from high school, the reasoning being that he was old enough to take care himself now and his father did not want to deal with him any longer. That had been a good six months earlier. He had floated from job to job but was unable to maintain anything permanent because of his attitude problem and his "hobbies."  
  
The night in question, a sleeting late January night, Zachary was on the prowl for a warm place to stay and warm food to fill his belly. He had walked for hours to reach the downtown district of D.C. He had stood against the wall of an over-priced grocery store and scouted out his prospects. At last, an elderly, well dressed woman with a fur coat had walked passed, her high heels tapping against the sidewalk. Zachary fell in step behind her determined on following the old bat to her car and forcing her at gunpoint to drive him to her home. It was a sketchy plan at best he knew, but he was half starved and half frozen and could think of none better.  
  
Without warning, Zachary had not even sensed another presence around him, he had been knocked unconscious from behind. When he had awakened, his head had throbbed terribly, he found himself lying on a bed inside a room and there had been a tray of food left on the bedside table. Without thinking, Zachary had plunged into the food and eaten every crumb of it. It had been days since he'd last eaten. Only then, had he explored his surroundings. He had discovered the door to the room he was in to be locked from the outside. He looked to the window but it had been nailed shut. He thought about breaking the glass and crawling through, but as he looked out the window, he had discovered he was on the second story with nothing to cushion his fall but the frozen ground below. Zachary had begun pounding on the door to the room, screaming for help until his throat was raw. He stopped when he had heard a key in the lock.  
  
"Come now, what is all that ruckus?" Asked an aging gentleman as he had walked through the door.  
  
Zachary pounced on the man but soon discovered just how strong the man was. Indeed, his upper body strength was incredible and the man quickly subdued the youth. Zachary had been forced onto the bed where he had been shackled to the headboard when one hand was placed into handcuffs.  
  
"Now that was certainly uncalled for," the gentleman had replied as he pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed.  
  
"What do you want?" Zachary had asked in a shaky voice. "Who are you?"  
  
"My name is unimportant right now. I am a man who sees a power in you, a power that other individuals have deemed as criminal and even insane." The man smiled gently at Zachary and he noticed how crisp the man's blue eyes were. "I spotted you on the street a month ago and have since followed your actions closely." The man paused and eyed Zachary with interest. Zachary felt those blue eyes boring into him, as if the man could read his thoughts or see into his very soul. "Yes, you are different from most that I encounter. You are intelligent and somewhat calculated. But you are raw and require a bit of honing."  
  
Zachary had stared at the man dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?" He had finally asked.  
  
The man had smiled again and a chill ran up Zachary's spine. "I am talking about your games, your 'hobbies' if you will." He had paused and Zachary's eyes widened. "There is so much I can teach you young man. But you must learn to trust me and I will trust you in return. I see an amazing gift within you, but you must allow me to train you and draw it out in my own way. I am offering you a chance, a chance at life, education, and the vastness of my knowledge. I will house you, feed you, clothe you, send you to college, and protect you. In return you will learn from me and protect me as well."  
  
Zachary could not believe what he was hearing. 'This guy is crazier than I am,' he had thought. 'He's probably some pervert.' Still, the idea was intriguing. But it could not be true. There had to be a catch somewhere. "But why?" Zachary had asked. "Why are you offering me this?"  
  
The man had smiled a bit sadly. "Because I have no offspring of my own to educate. You do not yet fully understand. I have a vast knowledge and experience of the same type of hobbies that you engage in and yet I have no one to pass that experience and knowledge on to. That is why I chose you."  
  
"Who are you?" Zachary had asked, at once both fearful and exhilerated.  
  
The man had smiled once more and looked at him with those piercing eyes. "Just call me Hannibal."  
  
Indeed, Hannibal had been true to his word. He had taken Zachary in and treated him as if he were his own son. Zachary had it good. When he thought about it, he could hardly believe his luck. Four years ago, he had been a wild starving lunatic. Today he would be graduating from college in five months, heading on to graduate school where he would pursue his degree in psychiatry, he lived in this cushy home, and he had been shown a world formerly unknown to him. It was a world where he could right wrongs and force the guilty to pay retribution. It was a world where he had learned when and where to give in to his urgings. Hannibal had transformed him into a calm, calculating, strong force to be reckoned with. Hannibal was his savior, Hannibal was his master.  
  
At first Zachary had been disheartened by the fact that his master had been given credit for the retributions that he, Zachary, had forced those men to make. But Hannibal had assured him that Clarice Starling, the woman he loved more than anything else, even more than his own life, would soon learn the truth for herself. Zachary knew that she had been his protégé in a way. He had shared with her his knowledge and given her his trust and secretly his heart and he knew she would not let him down. She would figure out that it was not Hannibal but that it was indeed another.  
  
Zachary frowned. She had yet to fulfill Hannibal's promise and Zachary was becoming very impatient.  
  
  
  
  
  
The following morning, Clarice strode into the Behavioral Science division, briefcase in hand and a smile on her face. She had not felt this positive about coming in to work in years. Today was the first day of project "Capture Lecter" as she and Will had jokingly nicknamed their partnership. Now as she strode through the office, she suddenly became acutely aware of her colleagues' eyes on her, not to mention the secretaries' as well. She stopped when she spotted Seth coming toward her.  
  
Seth enveloped Clarice in a bear hug. "I've missed you." He smiled into her hair.  
  
"I missed you, but not the job," Clarice returned his smile and he laughed.  
  
"Is your family alright?" Seth asked with a smile playing on his lips and one eyebrow raised, knowingly.  
  
'He knows,' she thought and smiled. "Yeah, everything's fine."  
  
"Good. Glad to hear it."  
  
"Well, I better get to work Seth what with that new victim and all."  
  
"Yeah," he grinned. "You have a very interesting day ahead of you I suppose."  
  
Clarice shook her head and made her way to her office. She could feel many eyes boring into her back and wondered what the big deal was. So she had been away for a full week, so what? It was not as if she did not deserve it. Clarice did not understand the imposing attention she was receiving until she opened the door to her office. Standing there, dressed professionally in navy blue slacks, white long sleeved shirt and tie, hands on his hips, gun and ID badge at his waist, studying the victims' crime scene photos that were tacked to one of the walls, stood Will Graham.  
  
"Ah, good morning, Will," Clarice smiled as she put her briefcase down and hung her jacket up. "Aren't you the early bird this morning?"  
  
He turned to look at her and grinned. "For some bizarre, disturbing reason I was too excited to sleep. I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve, morning did not come soon enough. I'm anxious to be of some use around here. God only knows why."  
  
Clarice laughed. "Well now I know why I was eyed strangely all the way in here."  
  
"Yeah, I seem to have stirred up a bit of interest although fortunately everyone seems to be leaving me alone other than staring in here through the glass. I tell you though, I had a hell of a time convincing the security guards down stairs that I'm working with you."  
  
"How did you get in?" Clarice asked. She sat down in her chair and propped her feet up on the desk.  
  
"Her majesty herself, Kendra Mitchell," Will grinned.  
  
Clarice groaned. "Oh shit." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Let me guess, I'm to report to her office for a reprimand immediately?"  
  
"No. Actually, Ms. Mitchell was extremely pleasant and rather helpful once she realized who I was," Will continued to smile. "She made sure I got my badge and ID and of course my gun."  
  
"Oh I bet she was a big help. She'd be kind to Hitler himself if she thought he'd be able to solve this case."  
  
"Hey, are you comparing me to Hitler?"  
  
Clarice laughed. "No, no! I just meant.."  
  
"I know what you meant, I'm just giving you a bad time, Clarice. Trust me, I've been around enough to spot a person like Kendra anywhere. Jack Crawford had quite a bit of self preservation in him too. But he was nowhere near as bad as Kendra though, if my dealings with her this morning are any indication," Will said.  
  
"You ain't seen nothing yet," Clarice promised. The mention of Crawford's name evoked some deep emotion within her, more than she cared to show and she turned away as she quickly swiped at her eyes. She missed him and wished he were still here to help guide her through this case.  
  
"How did you do last night?" she asked him, recomposed. "I mean being back home and all?"  
  
"I did alright. Thanks for helping me clear out all the pills and bottles, there's no way I could've done that alone. The craving is still there and I suppose it will hold on for quite some time but when it got really bad, I got up and cleaned the house. Keeping busy and mulling over the case seemed to help keep my mind off it," he replied.  
  
"Good," Clarice smiled. "But you remember what I told you: if the craving gets so bad that you're thinking about calling up your dealer again, call me instead, okay? I don't care what time of the day or night it is."  
  
"I will." He paused. When he looked back at her, she saw gratitude in his eyes. "Hey, thanks again. I mean it, you saved my life."  
  
"No," Clarice corrected. "You saved your life. I just went along for the ride. But you're welcome for the help." Clarice placed her feet on the floor and began to wade through the pile of messages on her desk.  
  
Will went back to studying the pictures for a moment. "I'm missing something. There's just something not right, and I'm missing it," he said almost to himself.  
  
"It'll come to you." Clarice said absently.  
  
Will shook his head. "It's right here, it's staring me in the face but I can't see it. I was up half the night going through the case file and I know it's here, it's right here, I just have to see it." He paused and continued to scan the pictures. Then he closed his eyes and turned away from them. "Goddammit," he whispered. "I can't see it. I've been out of this too long."  
  
"Hey now," Clarice said and came to stand next to him and she put her hand on his back. "Give yourself a break, it's your first day back and you've been through a lot the last week." She walked over and pulled one of the extra chairs around to her side of the desk. "Here, sit down. Let's talk about this theory of yours."  
  
Will opened his eyes and sat down in the chair. He pulled a piece of gum out of his pocket, unwrapped it, and put it in his mouth. He began to snap the gum with his tongue as he chewed. Clarice looked at him as she pulled folders and notepapers out of her briefcase. Will continued to pop his gum until he saw Clarice studying him with a smirk on her face.  
  
"What?" Will said.  
  
Clarice shook her head. "Were you always this restless when you were on the job?"  
  
"I'm sorry," Will replied. He threw the gum in the wastebasket next to her desk. "It's so weird, I can't explain it. I mean, ever since I've come off that shit, I've got all this energy and I don't know what to do with myself. I feel like I'm seeing the world again for the first time and experiencing things again for the first time." He shook his head. "I don't know. Forget it." He leaned over the case file on her desk. "Alright, let's do this."  
  
"Okay, you told me that you think Lecter's got a house probably on the east coast?" Clarice frowned. "What makes you think so? I mean aside from the victim two days ago, every other victim has been found either in the west or the mid west. I mean, sure, he could travel but I would think given his famous features, he'd want to stay close to home; wherever that is."  
  
Will smiled gently. "Clarice, you are an amazingly talented agent but on this case, I'm afraid you don't get it."  
  
"Enlighten me, then, oh Mighty Will." Clarice replied sarcastically and rolled her eyes.  
  
"This case, these crimes, it's not about the victims or about Lecter, it's about you."  
  
"What?" Clarice asked.  
  
Will held up a hand. "Just hear me out. The way I see it, Lecter's getting old. He's tired. He wants to stop running. And most of all, he wants to stop killing."  
  
"What?" Clarice repeated. "Okay, Will, I think that.."  
  
"Just listen Clarice," Will interrupted. "Five years ago, the last time you saw him, he said to you.." Will paused as he rummaged through papers in the case file to find Clarice's deposition. "...ah, here it is, he said to you, 'Tell me, Clarice, would you ever say to me stop, if you love me you'd stop?'"  
  
Clarice lowered her eyes at the memory of those words. It had been a long time since she had heard those words or allowed herself to remember them. She looked back up and saw Will watching her closely.  
  
"At that point, he was looking for a reason to stop," Will continued. "And he tried to get you to be that reason. But, being the person and the federal agent that you are, you refused him." He suddenly sat straight up in his chair and slapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh my God, that's it!"  
  
"What?" Clarice asked excitedly.  
  
"What I haven't been seeing? It's that Lecter isn't committing these crimes at all. We need to be looking for a completely different perp."  
  
Clarice looked out the window and pondered what Will had said.  
  
"I don't know. Then how did he know about the word being carved into their backs? That was purposely kept from the media," Clarice asked finally.  
  
Will shrugged. "How does Lecter ever know anything he knows?" Will thought about it for a moment then snapped his fingers. "He probably knows the actual killer personally. Think about it, Clarice, put yourself in his shoes. He's not a young man anymore. Sure, maybe he is still overtly strong but he's probably not as quick on his feet anymore and his hands, especially his left one assuming it was even reattached, are probably not as steady anymore. Given the inevitable physical limitations of old age, he may not have a choice, he may have HAD to stop."  
  
Clarice shook her head slightly. "Okay, okay, suppose you're right. What I don't understand is if he is not committing these murders, then why would he stay in the U.S.? It would put him in more danger than a more anonymous country. Why live here all these years?"  
  
Will smiled gently. "To be near you Clarice." He said simply.  
  
She looked at him and her eyes widened. "Oh my God." She shook her head and pondered his words. As sick and twisted as they were, they made sense. She put her head in her hands. "Why haven't I seen this? I've been working this case for five damn years, why haven't I seen this?"  
  
"Because you're too close to it. You should never have been reassigned to this case after the incident at Krendler's home but because of the typical idiocy and backwards thinking of the Bureau, you were." He paused and put a hand on her shoulder. "Additionally, I think maybe you don't really want to catch him."  
  
Clarice looked at him, genuinely shocked. "What the hell are you talking about? Why wouldn't I want to catch him? I mean, shit, I've only been chasing him for seemingly forever."  
  
"It's nice to have an admirer." Will stated simply.  
  
Clarice shook her head. "No," she whispered.  
  
"Then let me ask you this, Clarice: what have you done with all of the presents he's given you that you documented in the case file?"  
  
Clarice hung her head. Will's words stung. She stood up suddenly and went to the window, watching the early morning traffic below. She crossed her arms across her chest. Will came to stand behind her.  
  
"But really it's more than that, isn't it? Because of your early contact with him, while you didn't quite see him as your mentor, you were drawn to him as a person."  
  
Clarice spun around to face Will. "No," she said.  
  
Will nodded. "Yes, Clarice. I admit that when I worked with him profiling killers, I enjoyed spending time with him. I mean come on, Lecter's charismatic and charming. He's well versed, well educated, overly polite, and he can make us feel very good about ourselves when he wants to." He paused and put his hands on her shoulders. "You felt a connection to him."  
  
"Then that makes me a monster like him," Clarice shook her head and looked down at the floor.  
  
"That makes you human like him," Will corrected. He put a finger under her chin and lifter her head to look at him. "You were drawn to the part of him that's human, not the part of him that's a monster. You connected with another human being and that's only natural. There's nothing wrong with it. The only problem is, ironically, you have been put in charge of capturing him. But that isn't your fault."  
  
"Oh my God," Clarice put her head in her hands and shook her head slightly. "I guess subconsciously I've always known this but it hurts to actually acknowledge it."  
  
Will put his arms around her. "It's alright, Clarice. Really, it is. You shouldn't fret so much over it."  
  
Clarice looked up at him, smiled gently and pulled away. "You know, in a lot of ways you remind me of him."  
  
"Oh great," Will said sarcastically and rolled his eyes. "Which part? The psychiatrist part or the sociopathic part?"  
  
"Both," she laughed. "No, seriously, you give very good advice and you also can make people feel good about themselves when you want to."  
  
Will smiled and looked her straight in the eyes. "I just need to know something, Clarice. I need to know exactly how you feel about Lecter." He paused and Clarice opened her mouth to protest. Will held up a hand. "Wait. Don't tell me what you think I want to hear and don't tell me what you think would be politically correct to say. Tell me honestly how you feel about Dr. Hannibal Lecter. I promise, this will stay between us and I will not think any differently about you."  
  
Clarice stared at him. She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. She turned back to the window and stared out, unseeing. Will watched her closely but did not press her to answer. She stood silent for a moment and when she spoke, it was almost a whisper.  
  
"It's hard to put into words how I feel about him. I was so damn young the first encounter we ever had. I was so naïve and only saw the world in shades of right and wrong, black and white." She paused and ran a hand through her hair. She continued to stare out the window as she spoke. "As you said, he was so charming. He brought feelings, memories and emotions out of me that I had locked tightly away. I became vulnerable around him and he knew it. Yet in spite of that, he was always gentle with me.  
  
"He knew how to make me feel good about myself and he knew how to correct me as well. I came to see him as a sort of father-figure and I realize how disgusting that sounds but I lost my father when I was so young that I longed for a father's guidance, a father's love. And Dr. Lecter guided me. And he loved me. He introduced me to the bureaucracy and dark side of the FBI before I even knew such a thing existed. He showed me that there can be many shades of gray in the world, not just black and white." She sighed and paused again.  
  
"I guess what you want to know is do I have any strong personal feelings for him?" She turned to look at Will. "I don't know. My feelings regarding him have become very blurred over the last ten years or so, but especially the last five. I know that I do not love him. Am I fond of him? As a friend, perhaps. Could I see him and I ever being lovers? If he wasn't a sociopath who hurt people, maybe, yes. I will admit that I am attracted to him in a way, although to admit that even to myself disgusts me." She held Will's gaze, unflinching. "But I do know one thing, if he were to ever hurt anyone I care about, I would hate him forever."  
  
Will nodded slowly. "But he hasn't Clarice and he probably never will, he would consider that rude. What I really need to know is this: will the way you feel about him interfere with your full assistance on this case?"  
  
Clarice stared at him and was silent for a long time. "No," she said at last. "He needs to be brought to justice for the lives that he has destroyed in the past."  
  
"Alright then, let's get back to work."  
  
To be continued. Please review.  
  
Kurt: Hope this chapter cleared some things up for you. You'll have to keep reading to see where Clarice and Will are headed and the GD as well. Thanks for reading and reviewing.  
  
LoT: LOL, you may be right!! Thanks so much for your review, I really appreciate it.  
  
Shattered Mug: As usual, I laughed my ass off at your review! Thank you for the compliment on these notes, it's just a personal touch that I enjoy doing. You gave me such a great compliment, though, you admitted you're actually beginning to like Will. If as a writer I can get you to like a character that you maybe haven't liked so much in the past, then I've done my job! And I don't care if this fic kills you (well, actually I do care - so read with care!!), you better not stop reading! And you better not stop reviewing! Yes, the GD makes another appearance soon. I promise. It's coming. Thanks so much for your continued support.  
  
florence: I hope the encounter will be a good read for everyone, I'm working on it now as we 'speak'. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing.  
  
Steel: Gosh, I hope I don't disappoint everyone with the whole Hannibal/Clarice/Will encounter! It seems to be what everyone is pining for!! Thank you for your review, the coughcough made me laugh!  
  
Mel: Welcome to the party!! J/K. I'm so, so glad you reviewed and that you've been reading. Thank you so much for your wonderful words. I cannot tell you whether Clarice and Will are getting together but I will say this, IMHO, if you are staying true to the character of Clarice from the movies, she would never allow herself to love Lecter because of her upbringing and her training and the way she sees him(which I've tried to allude to in this and previous chapters). And don't worry about people hunting you down..you're safe with me! Thanks again and please do keep reviewing..even if you are the minority voice!  
  
EyeSeeU: LOL, well, I can't tell you yet if he's going to come through this whole thing okay or not! That's the beauty of being the writer, I know the whole story already! I may be sadistic in torturing you guys but as the GD said in an earlier chapter, 'One must have one's fun when one can'!! Thanks so much for your review.  
  
Nan: For reviews of Chapters 8 and 9: That's not fair, you can't read this story in reverse!! It ruins the atmosphere I'm working so hard to create!! I'm just teasing. You can read this story any way you want to..as long as you keep reading!!! Thanks so much, I always love your reviews. Good to see you back online, btw! 


	11. Chapter 11: More Than You Think You Are

Chapter 11: More Than You Think You Are  
  
Hannibal Lecter took a chance that she might have come home finally from her family emergency, and drove past Clarice's townhouse. To his relief, he saw lights shining brightly within and he smiled. 'Ah, now things can get back to normal,' he thought. 'My little starling's come home.'  
  
He did a U-turn and parked his Jaguar just down the street. He looked at the dashboard clock. It was early, only 9 pm. He turned off the engine and frowned. It could be hours before she retired to bed. He did not want to sit here that long, he was too restless tonight. In her absence, his ever-growing desire to be near her and knowing he could not because she was gone had driven him nearly mad. 'Well, madder than I am already,' he smiled. He thought that perhaps he could sneak into her home a bit early and just watch her. But that would be extremely risky.  
  
Now as he debated whether he should enter her home now or wait, he watched the shadows behind her curtains and realized he could make out two figures. He recognized Clarice's immediately but the second seemed to be a man's silhouette. Instantly, suspicion flared within him. Who was in there with her? Was their encounter purely professional in nature or was it more personal? His heart dropped as he thought that he might have to endure another lover. His obsession with her had increased to the point where he did not think he could do that anymore.  
  
His decision made, Lecter opened his car door and stepped out. He pulled his coat up around his face to keep the cold out and strode across the street, his eyes never leaving Clarice's windows. He reached her gate and let himself in. Lecter slinked around the back of the house to the rear door. As luck would have it, all of the lights at the back of the home were out. Lecter managed to get the back door open rather easily and snuck through, walking carefully and quietly as he went. He walked through her darkened kitchen and made his way toward the door to the living room. He heard music playing and recognized one of Clarice's favorite newer groups; Matchbox 20.  
  
Once inside, he heard Clarice laugh. "You didn't," she said, her voice filled with delight.  
  
"What can I say, I was young and stupid. I did."  
  
Lecter stopped dead in his tracks. He would know that voice anywhere and in any lifetime. It was the voice of his most hated rival, his nemesis, former FBI agent and current drug addict Will Graham. Then he heard Clarice laugh again and the sound was music to his ears. He closed his eyes and pictured her happy, bright, laughing face.  
  
"You're such an idiot, Will," Clarice laughed.  
  
Will laughed too. "I know, I know. What can I say? I was 13 and thought I was hot shit and I really, really wanted to impress her so did it. I stood up in the middle of the cafeteria and belted out 'You Are So Beautiful' by Kenny Rogers."  
  
Clarice laughed even harder, clutching her stomach. "And was Jennifer impressed?"  
  
"No," Will laughed. "She was so embarrassed that she never uttered a single word to me again."  
  
'What the HELL is he doing here?' Lecter opened his eyes, clenched his fists, and moved forward.  
  
He knelt in the doorway of the kitchen and peered carefully into the living room, being sure to stay in the shadows. They were sitting on the couch, Clarice sat cross-legged facing Will on one end and Will sat at the other end, his arm draped on the back of the couch casually, his shoeless feet propped on her coffee table. Lecter spied two .45's and two FBI ID's and badges on the coffee table as well and a manila case file. In addition, there was an open pizza box and cans of soda, diet for her he knew, littering the table as well.  
  
Lecter smiled at the sight of Clarice. 'Oh, it's been too long, my love,' he thought. 'You've been away far too long.'  
  
He noticed she was clad in his favorite pajama combo, her tan loose-fitting bottoms and the black skin tight tank top. She had piled her hair on top of her head with a gold clip and a few strands hung around her face. Then he glared at the back of Will's head and saw he had gotten his hair cut and was wearing a white dress shirt and dress pants.  
  
'Odd,' Lecter mused. 'The last time I checked up on Will he seemed to be permanently inebriated. How has he suddenly cleaned up? And what is he doing with her, a gun, and an FBI ID and badge?'  
  
All of a sudden, Lecter put two and two together. 'Oh my God,' he thought. 'She did not have a family emergency. She went away to help Will get clean so she could bring him in to catch me.'  
  
Lecter's eyes narrowed to slits as he watched the two of them, his beauty and his beast, sitting, laughing, talking, as if they were old chums. This was not a good development at all. 'No, not at all,' he thought as he continued to clench and unclench his fists. He was going to have to rectify this situation.  
  
  
  
Clarice rolled over onto her back and sighed heavily. She turned to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. It was just after 2 am. She stared at the ceiling and analyzed why she could not go to sleep. She had been attempting to sleep ever since Will had left about two hours ago. Since she had driven them here this afternoon, she let him take her car home and he would pick her up in the morning on his way in. Clarice remembered watching him back out of the garage. He had rolled down the window and smiled.  
  
"I'm not leaving 'till I see you go in and lock up."  
  
Clarice had smiled. "Good night Will."  
  
"Good night. Dream some sweet dreams tonight. Not the usual ones we have, okay?"  
  
"I'll try," she had smiled again. "You, too." She turned and walked into the house.  
  
Now as she lay in bed and watched the headlights from a passing car sweep across her ceiling, she felt mixed emotions as she recalled the day's events.  
  
She and Will had had a busy day. After their morning collaborations, Kendra Mitchell had summoned the two of them to her office. She had met with each of them separately, Will first then Clarice. On his way into her office, Will had joked, "Shit I hope the principal doesn't give us detention." Clarice had laughed heartily. She had been in a great mood this morning. That had all changed quickly. When it had been her turn to enter the dragon's lair, Will had walked out, shaking his head. Clarice had entered Kendra's office and awaited her verbal lashing. Indeed, Kendra was overly cold and cruel to Clarice.  
  
"You deliberately disobeyed an order from your Superior, Clarice," Kendra had said coolly. "And then you disappear for a week? That is unacceptable."  
  
"I'm sorry," Clarice had stated simply.  
  
Kendra had raised her eyebrows at Clarice's response. "That's it?" she asked. "Aren't you going to argue with me or try to rationalize your actions or something?"  
  
"No," Clarice had replied quietly. "There would be no point."  
  
Kendra had smiled evenly and Clarice thought, 'Bitch.'  
  
Kendra's demeanor had changed and she sat down on the edge of her desk next to Clarice amicably as if trying to be pals all of a sudden. "He's quite charming isn't he?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Who?" Kendra had repeated incredulously. "Your new partner, that's who. Graham's rather smooth and charming. And damn does he look good in those pants." She had smiled broadly, paused and looked directly at Clarice. "After he's caught Lecter, I'll have to take him out so he and I can celebrate." She had smirked at Clarice.  
  
Clarice had known her boss was just trying to get a rise out of her and she'd be damned if she would give her the pleasure. Still, Clarice had felt her blood beginning to boil. She absolutely loathed this woman. "I beg your pardon, Kendra, but Will and I will be bringing Dr. Lecter in together."  
  
"You've been working for five years to bring him in and you've failed, Clarice. The way I see it, Agent Graham is here to save your ass." Kendra had smiled coldly and Clarice had remembered Seth's innocent words about the possibility of Will being her savior. "Just be sure you let him do his thing and stay out of his way so he can find Lecter," Kendra had continued. "Don't get your claws into him and fuck him up Clarice." She had smiled coldly. "That's gonna be my job when this case is finished."  
  
Clarice had remained silent but her rage threatened to boil over. The two women had stared at each other with utter contempt for a while. Clarice was sick of being abused by her boss. She made a decision.  
  
"Kendra," she had finally said quietly, "when this case is closed, I will be turning in my badge."  
  
Kendra had smiled brightly. "Why don't you turn it in now Clarice? Face it, you're washed up. You can't do this job any more. You haven't been able to do it well for quite awhile now."  
  
Clarice had taken a deep breath. "I will not abandon Will," she said simply.  
  
Kendra had snorted. "He doesn't need your help."  
  
Clarice had sat there silent and unmoving. She had turned her head slightly to gaze out the window as she attempted to calm her inner rage. She would not let this woman get the best of her. "Is there another purpose to this meeting or are we finished?" Clarice had asked, looking back at her boss.  
  
"We're finished Clarice," Kendra had smiled coolly again. "Just remember what I said, leave him alone and don't fuck him up."  
  
Clarice had exited quickly and stormed out of the office. She saw that Will had waited for her, he had been chatting with one of the secretaries. He had looked up, saw Clarice, and frowned. She had raced passed him, hoping he would continue his conversation. Instead he had fallen into step beside her as she had made her way to the stairwell and not the elevator. Clarice had slammed open the door and instead of heading back up in the direction of her office, she had headed down.  
  
"Clarice, what happened?" Will had asked, concerned. "What did she say?"  
  
"Leave me alone Will, okay?" Clarice had grumbled and continued her hurried descent.  
  
Will had grabbed her arm and forced her to turn and face him. "Would you stop and talk to me? What happened?"  
  
Clarice had looked up at him and he could see the beginnings of tears although she was working desperately to hold them back. "I'm gonna lose it and I don't want you to see me," she had said and had turned to head back down the stairs.  
  
Will had retained his grip on her arm so she could not retreat. "Clarice," he had said gently. "You've seen me at my worst and you were there for me. Now I'm here for you. I'm your partner now, don't shut me out."  
  
At his words, Clarice's tears had finally come. He had put his arms around her and enveloped her in a big hug. Her tears had soaked his shirt. They had stood like that in the stairwell until her tears had stopped. She had looked up at him with her red eyes and tear stained face.  
  
"I'm sorry," she had whispered huskily.  
  
"It's okay."  
  
"I'm sorry I got your shirt all wet."  
  
"I don't give a shit, it's easily washed," he had smiled. "Now, tell me what happened."  
  
Clarice had taken his hand. "I've gotta get out of this building. Let's go outside."  
  
Once outside he had listened carefully as she had talked and paced. Clarice had told him everything that Kendra had said and everything that she had felt and said. When she had finished, Will shook his head.  
  
"Damn that woman. She's certainly in a class all her own."  
  
"Now you understand why Seth and I nicknamed her the Devil incarnate." She smiled wanly. "How did your meeting with her go?" Clarice had asked.  
  
Will shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. "Are you cold?" He had asked. "Cuz if you're cold I'll run up and get your jacket if you want."  
  
"No, thanks, I'm fine." Clarice closed her eyes and tilted her head up to feel the sun's warm rays on her face. "The sun feels good this morning."  
  
Will had smiled as he watched her soak up the sun's late autumn rays. "So what are you planning on doing when we're done with this case since you're gonna quit?"  
  
Clarice had looked at him. "I don't know. Maybe I'll try to get on at Quantico."  
  
Will had nodded. "That'd be good. We could teach there together then."  
  
"You're gonna teach there?"  
  
"Well I've had a standing invitation there for about the last 20 years," he had shrugged. "Maybe it's time I took 'em up on their offer."  
  
Clarice had smiled. "So what happened in your meeting with Kendra?" She had asked quietly.  
  
"Damn, I was hoping you would forget about that."  
  
"Come on, partner, tell me. I mean it couldn't have been as bad as mine, she loves you."  
  
"I noticed," Will had sighed. "She just went on and on about how I was the savior of the department and ego-stroking bullshit like that. Oh and she also told me that if there was anything at all I needed to be sure and let her know personally." Will had shaken his head. "Then she started in about you."  
  
"What'd she say?"  
  
"She kept saying how incompetent you'd become and shit like that."  
  
"I see," Clarice had whispered.  
  
"And then I asked her how if you were so incompetent you were smart enough to resurrect what she considers to be the department's 'savior' and she wasn't," Will had said quietly. "She didn't have a response for that."  
  
Clarice had chuckled. "I hate that woman."  
  
"She's definitely a piece of work. And you were totally right on when you said she'd be kind to Hitler if she thought he could help her out on this case. I mean with all the bullshit compliments she was giving me, damn, I haven't been told shit like that since the time I made Molly go a week without sex and she finally resorted to flattery to get me to give it up." He chuckled. "I tell you though, Kendra's sure got a hard on for catching Lecter." He had paused. "Oh, excuse the rude phrase."  
  
"It's fine," she had smiled. "Yup, Kendra sure does. You're so mean, though, withholding sex from your wife."  
  
Will had laughed. "No, no, it was a bet. See she bet me that I couldn't go a day without..um, you know what, never mind." He had blushed.  
  
This time it was Clarice who had laughed. "You better watch out though, Kendra was saying she's going to take you out to celebrate when you solve the case."  
  
Will had looked at her and omitted the fact that Ms. Mitchell had flat out come on to him in her office. He had smiled. "Well, when we solve this case, you and I will have to go out and celebrate. Kendra Mitchell be damned."  
  
Clarice had smiled. "You're too good to me, Will."  
  
"No," he had paused. "I just know class when I see it and you deserve so much better than the FBI has given you."  
  
"We both do." Clarice had sighed and looked up at the building. She now viewed it as a prison, a prison where she had served too long of a sentence. She had felt as if she could not step foot back into the building anymore that day so Will had gone back upstairs, gathered up the case file and they had gone back to her townhouse to work. Clarice had lit a fire to take the chill out of the room, changed into her favorite lounging clothes: comfortable pajama bottoms and a black tank top and Will had taken off his tie, his shoes, and rolled up his sleeves. But instead of working, the two of them had ordered a pizza and spent the rest of the afternoon talking. They had talked about their childhoods, their training at Quantico, their hopes and dreams, their experiences with Jack Crawford, their families, everything except what they should have been discussing: Hannibal Lecter.  
  
Now in bed, Clarice shook her head. She could not get the image of Will's smile out of it. Clarice felt so comfortable around him and she felt she could tell him anything. Hell, she had even let him see her cry and she never let anyone but Ardelia see her cry. They had spent every day together for nine days now and already they had been through quite a bit together. They had learned to let their guards down and trust each other. Clarice had not felt that with a man since her father.  
  
Clarice smiled and felt tingly all over. She groaned. 'What is wrong with me?' she thought. 'I'm acting like a damn school girl with a crush.'  
  
She rolled over on her side and looked at the clock again. 2:45 am.  
  
"Ugh," she said out loud. "He's your partner, let it go. You're being ridiculous."  
  
She closed her eyes and began to drift off to sleep again when the phone rang. She jumped, startled and grabbed it on the second ring. Phone calls in the dead of night were never good news and she was suddenly fearful.  
  
"Hello?" She asked.  
  
"Clarice I need you to talk to me. Just talk to me about anything, okay?"  
  
"Will?" Clarice asked. "What's wrong? What is it?"  
  
She heard him sigh shakily. "Remember when you told me that I should call you instead of my dealer? Well I am. So please, I need you to talk to me. About anything, it doesn't matter. Tell me more about your father or something."  
  
"Alright," Clarice lay in her bed in the dark and talked into the phone.  
  
Had she looked into the dark shadows against the left side of her room, she might have seen her predator and her prey sitting in the corner, clenching and unclenching his fists.  
  
  
  
To be continued. Please review!  
  
florence: Thank you so much for your continued support. More to come soon.  
  
Nan: It's funny that you comment on the conversation regarding the GD between Will and Clarice because I think I rewrote that whole section about five times before I was satisfied with it. Besides, I figured if anyone would understand her mixed feelings about him, Will would. Thanks again for reading and reviewing.  
  
Shattered Mug: You and I have already discussed this review on Lecterphiles!! What can I say, but thanks. You're the best. And you know I always appreciate your reviews.  
  
Kurt: Thanks for your great review. While the Clarice/GD fans haven't quite taken up arms against me, I have received a few insistent reviews on the subject of Will and Clarice. Thanks for the kudos on the Will/Clarice scenes. I slave over these damn chapters! Yes, Will is much happier isn't he? In all my research and talking to people who've gone through the same kind of thing, that seemed to be a universal feeling, the feeling of re- birth almost after addiction so I tried to portray Will that way. No, Zachary is not quite as stable as our pal, the GD. Look for more from him later. Thanks as always for your wonderful review.  
  
LoT: Yes, we'll see a bit more from young Zachary. Well, you got a little GD jealousy in this chapter and you'll have to keep reading to see if there is going to be more! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing.  
  
EyeSeeU: Yes, Zachary seems to intrigue most of you and we will see more from him soon. I'm so glad that most everyone enjoyed the conversation between Will and Clarice, I spent days and many rewrites on that conversation alone! Thank you so much for your great review. PS: That is one of my favorite lines too!  
  
luna: Thank you for reading and reviewing. Everyone seems to be very interested in Zach!! I know the Clarice line of thinking is a bit off, but ah well. Thanks again. 


	12. Chapter 12: Policy of Truth

Chapter 12: Policy of Truth  
  
Two days later, Hannibal Lecter walked briskly through the door of his home. He placed his keys on the peg near the front door, and flipped nonchalantly through the day's mail. He received so little actual mail most of it was circulars and junk mail, because his alias Hayden Litten only existed on paper. He walked through the entryway and stepped into the broad living room. He paused and dropped the mail into the small wastebasket that sat against the wall set there specifically for the day's mail. He straightened up and turned to make his way into the kitchen but he stopped short when he saw Zachary sitting quietly on the couch, looking down at his hands.  
  
"Young Zach," Lecter replied curiously. "Are you not supposed to be in class right now?"  
  
"Yes," the boy replied quietly, "but I need to discuss something with you and you're never home in the evening anymore."  
  
Lecter's eyebrow raised in interest. "What could possibly be more important than Abnormal Psychology?"  
  
"The fact that it's been almost four years and Agent Starling still gives you credit for my work," Zachary all but whispered. He looked up at Lecter to try and gauge his reaction. He was always careful to speak politely and evenly around his mentor for he knew what the man was capable of.  
  
Lecter sighed and moved to sit on the couch opposite the one Zachary sat on. He sat down lightly and crossed one leg over the other. He peered at his young charge with tired eyes. He was tired of having this conversation. "Would you really like the spotlight to turn to you then? If that is what you would like then we can make that happen."  
  
Zachary lowered his gaze back to his hands. "I guess not."  
  
"You must understand, Zachary, I am allowing her train of thought to continue this way while you are still being instructed. This allows you to remain under a wing of protection and subsequently undetectable."  
  
Zachary stared sullenly at the floor, silent under the reproach.  
  
Lecter watched him quietly. Since taking the boy in, he had always been able to read him like a book. He knew exactly what was troubling him. "Listen, Zach, I promise that I am not attempting to upstage you in any way. I am not attempting to take credit where credit is not due. I'm simply trying to keep you safe until you have been trained well and can venture out on your own. When that day arrives, then Agent Starling will see the truth."  
  
"But you're never home anymore," Zachary said desperately, and looked at him. "You seem more preoccupied with her than with me lately. How can I be trained when you aren't here to do that?"  
  
Lecter frowned slightly. It was unlike Zachary to question him like this, not to mention the fact that he had skipped class. He smiled gently at the boy. "Right now I am in the midst of a situation and I need you to be patient. I am not intending to neglect you and it pains me to know you think that I am."  
  
Chagrinned, Zachary gazed back down at the floor. "I don't mean to cause you pain, master, I'm just anxious to learn more from you, that's all."  
  
"Patience is a virtue, young Zach, never forget that." He smiled as he remembered coaching another young learner in this same lesson many years ago. Ah how he wished he could have instructed her further. Well, time for that would come soon enough. "All good things to those who wait," he said and shook his head in amusement. Young people were always so impatient. "So, how is that midterm paper coming?"  
  
Zachary looked up and grinned. "I'm finished. The web site you found for me really helped."  
  
"Good," Lecter smiled. "Now I'm sure you have reading and studying to do," he replied dismissively.  
  
Zachary stood up. "Yes," he said quietly and turned to leave. He strode to the hallway and turned back. "Can I inquire as to what the situation is that you are in the midst of? Is there anything I might do to assist in any way?" He asked hopefully.  
  
Lecter turned his gaze to the boy and mulled his question over in his mind. "I don't think your assistance in this instance would be wise." He said quietly. "But I do appreciate the offer."  
  
"But why can't I help you?" Zachary whined.  
  
"Because in this particular sort of situation, I must be extra careful and your relative inexperience might jeopardize my plans." He paused. "Now, do not question me any more about it."  
  
"But I could learn even more.."  
  
"No," Lecter cut him off. "I will not allow it."  
  
"Just tell me why?" Zachary pleaded.  
  
Lecter sighed. "Because when an FBI agent disappears, there is always an intense investigation. The FBI does not like to lose one of its own."  
  
Zachary's anger boiled up inside. He was tired of being treated like an imbecile. He had come so far and learned so much. 'Why doesn't he trust me?' Zachary thought angrily. He worked to mask his emotions, he must remember whose presence he was in. "Hannibal, please, if you'll just..."  
  
"Enough," Lecter roared at him. "This conversation is finished." He picked up the day's newspaper from the coffee table and perused the headlines.  
  
Zachary glared at him for a moment, stormed to the coat rack, grabbed his jacket, and bounded through the entryway to the door. Lecter looked up.  
  
"Where are you going?" he called after the boy.  
  
"Out," came the simple reply shortly before the door slammed shut.  
  
  
  
The next morning, Clarice sat at her desk, gnawing on the end of a pencil, and going through lease agreements that the rental companies had sent over. They had been granted a warrant from a judge to have thirteen prominent rental companies within D.C., the Quantico area, and Chesapeake Bay send them copies of leases that had been signed within the last five years. Will's and Clarice's one and only stipulation had been that the companies pull leases that had been signed by only one Caucasian older gentleman, especially those with the initials of H.L.  
  
Clarice figured she would know Lecter's handwriting. Going on Will's theory that Lecter lived close by, they had decided to work quickly through the paperwork before moving on to more difficult tasks. It was a shot in the dark but at least Clarice felt they were moving in the right direction. She looked up from her pile of lease agreements as Will walked through the door, carrying two cans of Coke and a bag of pretzels.  
  
"Lunch," he announced and smiled.  
  
"Boy that looks nutritious," Clarice snickered.  
  
"I got you a regular Coke instead of diet. Sorry, I forgot. I don't know how you can drink that diet shit anyway."  
  
She rolled her eyes at him. Will handed her a soda, placed his on the desk, and sat down in his chair. He opened the bag of pretzels, took out a handful and put some in his mouth. He offered her the bag.  
  
"No thanks," she replied. "I swear, you can't rely on a man to even complete the simple task of procuring lunch."  
  
"Hey, that's hitting below the belt, Starling," he chuckled and threw two pretzels at her.  
  
Clarice deflected them and the pretzels fell to the floor. There was a knock on the door and Seth poked his head in.  
  
"Hey Seth," Clarice smiled and gestured him in.  
  
"Seth," Will called.  
  
"Hey Clarice, Will," he shook Will's outstretched hand and grabbed some pretzels out of the bag.  
  
"What brings you slumming with the cast-offs of Behavioral Science?" Clarice grinned.  
  
"Actually, some mail arrived for Will and was left on my desk by accident." He handed Will a small stationary-style envelope.  
  
"Oooh," Clarice replied. "Love letters already Will? You sly dog you."  
  
Will looked at her, nodded his head, and smirked. "Yeah, you're just jealous."  
  
Seth laughed. "So what are you two working on?"  
  
"Matching handwriting," Clarice looked bored and continued to gnaw absently on her pencil. "Wanna help?"  
  
"Oh, you know, as much fun as that sounds, I think I'll just leave you two love birds alone and get back to actual detective work," Seth grinned.  
  
Clarice and Will simultaneously flipped up their middle fingers at him.  
  
"Damn, Clarice," Seth laughed. "Your bad habits are rubbing off on him."  
  
"Believe me," Will grinned. "I learned all the bad habits when she was still in diapers, I don't need her to teach 'em to me."  
  
Seth smiled. "Later, you two. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."  
  
"Bye Seth," Clarice said.  
  
"See ya, Seth," Will replied.  
  
Still smiling, Clarice went back to flipping through lease agreements and tapping the pencil on the desk now. Will opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. He opened it and his eyes widened as he read.  
  
'My Dear Will, You and I both know that you are not up to the task of finding me. The time you actually did, was a fluke, and you know it. Do not fill your head with thoughts of grandeur and waste poor Clarice's time with your petty little ideas. Oh, and one other thing: you would do well to discontinue your little evening pow-wows at her residence. I cannot stress strongly enough how unfortunate life would become for you should your relationship with her become anything more than merely professional. Until now I have extended to you the courtesy of not calling upon you although God knows how easy it would have been to have visited you on one of those all too frequent drunken nights. But I thought it would be much more amusing to let you wallow through your own hell of addiction and self-loathing. However, now you are attempting to be brave when we both know you are not and that displeases me immensely. Be seeing you soon, ~H'  
  
Will felt his heart leap from his chest and his breath caught in his throat. He stood up too quickly, shoved the paper and envelope into his back pocket, and scrambled for the door. Clarice looked up in surprise.  
  
"Will?" she called as he bolted through the door.  
  
He raced to the stairwell and bounded down it until he was outside. He pulled at his tie, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, leaned over, put his hands on his knees, and gulped for air. He could not breath. He felt as if he were suffocating. His left side ached and without realizing it, his hand moved there to rest over the scar. Suddenly, every emotion, every memory that he had attempted to medicate away for years slammed back through his head. All of his nightmares seemed coalesced before his mind's eye and he staggered backward under the weight of it all. He remembered the excruciating physical pain, yes, but most of all he remembered the damnable fear that Lecter had inflicted within him. As a boy Will had feared the imaginary monsters that snuck up on him at night. As a man, Lecter had made Will come to fear the very real monsters that snuck up on him at night.  
  
He thought of the last line in the note: 'Be seeing you soon,' and cringed.  
  
'God I need to get wasted,' Will thought and groaned. 'More now than ever. What the hell am I doing? Lecter's right, I am not up to this. I'm nothing. Besides, my God, he knows. He knows I'm working with Clarice, which means he's watched us. And now I'm risking my life just to try and catch him? For what? Oh fuck.'  
  
Will straightened up and put his head in his hands. His breathing began to slow and his heart gradually returned to its normal rhythm. He sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair. Just then, Clarice poked her head out the door. When she saw him, she rushed over to him.  
  
"There you are," she breathed. "You gave me quite a scare. What happened?"  
  
He looked into her eyes and knew he should tell her the truth. But he did not want her blaming herself or being overly worried. "I just needed some fresh air," he managed a weak smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."  
  
"Who was that letter from?"  
  
Will's mind worked frantically for a story that Clarice would believe. "Just the wife of a friend down in Florida. He fell from a ladder last week and got hurt pretty bad. It just brought back some bad memories, that's all. I'm sorry," he repeated.  
  
"Don't be sorry. I'm sorry that your friend got hurt," Clarice smiled gently. "I just wanted to be sure you were okay. You sure bolted out of the office in a hurry."  
  
Will nodded and managed a smile again. "I'm fine," he lied and took a deep breath, attempting to calm his rattled nerves. He restrained an urge to bolt in the direction of his car and drive away from this place, never looking back. He looked at Clarice's concerned face and knew he must keep his promise to her. He'd stay...for now. "Come on, let's get back to work."  
  
  
  
Three hours later, Will looked up from his pile of lease agreements, stretched his arms up over his head and rubbed his tired eyes. "This is getting us nowhere, Clarice. We need to switch tactics."  
  
"Alright." She said and paused. "We can't concentrate on the murders if he isn't the one committing them so that direction is moot," Clarice said. "What if we tried to draw him out?"  
  
"He'd probably see right through that."  
  
"We haven't had any positive leads from any of the fine foods stores we sent Lecter's picture to, have we?"  
  
"No," Will shook his head. "Nothing substantial."  
  
Suddenly, the phone on Clarice's desk buzzed.  
  
"Starling," she announced into the receiver and listened for a moment. She looked up at Will. "We're on our way," she said into the phone and dropped the receiver back into its cradle. She stood up, removing her leather jacket from the coat stand.  
  
"What's up?" Will asked.  
  
"Another 'guilty' murder," Clarice said.  
  
  
  
This time the body of an elderly man had been found in Baltimore, Maryland dumped in an alley. Clarice and Will displayed their badges, walked under the yellow police tape and approached the scene. Clarice stopped to speak with the detectives from the Baltimore Police Department while Will moved to kneel beside the body. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the inhumanity before him. This one was the worst by far of all the 'guilty' victims.  
  
He was an older Caucasian man, balding, white hair, maybe five feet, eight inches tall, and he had a broad, muscular upper body. Like the other victims, he was found nude and lying on his stomach. The differences between him and the other victims, however, were alarming. His face had been carved so that there was little skin that remained over the skeleton and muscles. His hands had been severed and left next to the body in a haphazard manner. In addition, Will noted the man's ears, nose, penis and testicles lay scattered around the body. The body had been cut and scraped by a knife and was badly mutilated. Carved into the man's back underneath the single word, 'guilty', were the words 'see the truth.' Will's brow furrowed.  
  
Clarice came over and squatted down next to him, looking puzzled. "The detectives ran his fingerprints. His name is Thomas Levine. The weird thing is that unlike the other victims, he isn't a registered sex offender, they found no record of any kind, nothing. He owned a small hardware store on Liberty Road here in Baltimore." She paused and looked at the body. "Nothing at all links him to the other victims with the exception of the word 'guilty.'"  
  
Will stood up and walked to the other side of the body. "Do you have any gloves?" He asked Clarice. He worked to quiet his mind. 'Be still,' he repeated to himself.  
  
She threw him a pair of latex examination gloves she had been given by the detectives. He slipped them on, knelt back down, and lifted the body partially over so he could view the man's stomach and chest. Clarice came to stand beside him and peered under the body.  
  
"He's been cut up the front like the others as well," Clarice observed. "Think his organs are taken, too?" She glanced at Will.  
  
"There's only one way to find out," he replied grimly.  
  
Clarice scrunched up her nose, nodded bleakly and pulled on a pair of gloves. "You hold him, I'll look," she said.  
  
While Will held the body up, Clarice spread the wound in the man's chest open. She reached her hand inside and felt around. The heart was missing. Clarice groaned slightly in disgust and pulled her hands out. Will grunted and let the body drop back to the ground with a hollow splat. They both stood up and stripped off the gloves.  
  
"Alright," Clarice said. "Same word and three new ones this time on the back. Same wound up the abdomen and chest with major organs removed."  
  
"The cut wasn't clean like the others," Will added. "It was jagged and rough as if it were done in a hurry."  
  
Clarice nodded. "The other major difference is the body parts that have been severed and scattered around the body and the deep slashes on the majority of the body." She sighed. "Despite the fact that the carving of the word on the bodies has never been made public, do you think this is some kind of copycat murder?" She thought aloud.  
  
Will mused over her question for a moment, his eyes never leaving the body. He closed his eyes and probed for the killer's psyche. 'Be still,' he told his mind. When he opened them again, he shook his head. "I don't think so." He paused.  
  
"It just seems that the killer was awfully angry with this one to have cut him up like that."  
  
Will nodded. "Exactly." He paused. "This was not planned like the others were. This looks like a quick, random selection made in haste and anger, an impulse killing."  
  
"But what made the killer so angry?"  
  
Will was silent for a moment. "Maybe the fact that Dr. Lecter has been given credit for these crimes."  
  
Clarice looked at him, stunned. "What makes you think so?"  
  
Will met her gaze. "Two things. First, look at the victim, Clarice. Physically who does he remind you of?"  
  
"Lecter," she breathed.  
  
"Right," Will nodded. "Secondly, the other words, 'see the truth.' He wants us to know who's really committing these crimes. He's proud of them." He paused and stared at the body again. "But mutilation of this kind generally indicates severe deep seated hatred. If the man here is supposed to represent Lecter, why does the killer hate him so?" Will thought aloud. "I can't imagine a simple case of mistaken identity by the FBI with regards to who the actual killer is would cause this much hatred and anger."  
  
"Wait a minute, Will," Clarice said and looked at him. "You said before that you think Lecter knows the actual killer and that was how he knew about the word 'guilty' being carved into the victims."  
  
He met her gaze and their minds worked furiously.  
  
"But I don't think they are working together," Will mused quietly to himself.  
  
"Because of Lecter's age and desire to quit," Clarice added. "And these murders don't fit his MO."  
  
They looked back to the body. They were both still and silent for a few minutes.  
  
"What if Lecter and the killer are living together?" Clarice asked quietly. "Perhaps all this time, we've been looking at the wrong type of lease agreements."  
  
Will looked at her. "We should be looking for ones signed by an older Caucasian man with the initials of H.L. who included a young man on the lease as well."  
  
They looked at each other for a moment before turning back and rushing to the car.  
  
"You drive," Clarice told Will, pulling out her cell phone. "I'll call the rental companies."  
  
  
  
To be continued. Please review!  
  
luna: Thank you for reading and reviewing. I understand this fic is tough for the diehard Hannibal/Clarice lovers. I for one enjoy lost love type of stories and major angst. But you never know what's coming up! Also, yes, I'm guilty as charged. I have stockpiled some chapters. But I do have a defense: I'm trying to get as much of the story down before I go back and clean and polish things up in them. Besides, I like to torture you guys! Thanks again.  
  
Kurt: Yes GD jealousy is soooo much fun!! We were unable to see much emotion from him in the movies. Kendra will rear her ugly head again soon. Thanks for your continued reading and reviewing.  
  
Oh faithful reviewee AKA Shattered!!!! So funny! Now no temper tantrums or its time out for you! As always, thank you for your reviews. See ya next chapter.  
  
Nicole: Thank you so very much for your review. You may in the minority as far as the whole Will/Clarice thing is concerned, but that's alright. I appreciate your support.  
  
Hanniballover1181: I'm sorry if you do not like the story line but I appreciate your review and feedback. Thanks for reading and reviewing.  
  
guber: Wow, I enjoy bringing people to their knees so get down there!! J/K! Thank you so much for your review.  
  
EyeSeeU: Aww, thank you for your great review. Yes, I thought the 'predator/prey' thing was pretty cool (if I do say so myself). Thanks again.  
  
Nan: Thanks for the kudos on the chapter. It's nice when you work very hard at something and people appreciate the quality of it. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Thanks again. 


	13. Chapter 13: Downfall

Chapter 13: Downfall  
  
Zachary paced the living room nervously back and forth. He knew he was in tremendous trouble once Hannibal returned home for certainly he had seen the news today and would put two and two together. He would have the boy's head especially because of the implications of the murder.  
  
Zachary bit his nails as he paced and debated what he should do. 'God why was I so stupid last night?' he chided himself. 'What was I thinking?'  
  
The problem was he had not been thinking. He had been overcome with an anger so volatile it had developed into an urge so strong that he had not been able to control it. He was tired of being Lecter's subordinate. Granted, the doctor had given him a second chance and a life that Zachary had previously only dreamed of, but that did not mean that he could treat him badly. There came a point when the old man needed to trust Zachary, needed to believe in him.  
  
After he had left the house last night, he had jumped in his car and raced away, tires squealing on the asphalt. He had driven on blindly, with no purpose or destination in mind, and had eventually found himself in Baltimore, Hannibal's former stomping grounds. He had been seething over his mentor's words: 'I don't think your assistance in this instance would be wise.' Zachary had repeated the phrase over and over in his head until he had been shaking with fury.  
  
He had stopped at a red light and had glanced to his right hand side, still fuming. He'd had to do a double take to be sure the man walking briskly on the sidewalk was not indeed Lecter. He had watched the man walk quickly, coat pulled tightly around him, face lowered into the upraised lapels against the cold.  
  
Zachary's anger had only increased as he had watched the man walk. It was almost uncanny how similar he looked to Lecter. Zachary had followed him at a distance until the opportunity to grab him had presented itself. Zachary remembered how he had hit the man from behind in the back of the head and carried him quickly to his car. He had driven the man to a deserted warehouse and, in the alley behind, had slashed and destroyed the man with his knife, taking out all of his fury on him. He remembered how he had plunged his knife into the man's body again and again, severing body parts and mutilating his face until his fury had finally begun to abate.  
  
Zachary remembered taking the man's heart and tearing into it right then and there in the alley, devouring most of it. He had carved his 'signature' into the man's back and sat back, bathed in blood, looking at his work. He was tired of Hannibal being given credit for his work and he wanted to be sure that this time his master's bitch figured things out. He had recalled how Hannibal had said that one day Clarice would 'see the truth.' Zachary had thought he would just help her along a bit and he had carved those exact words into the man's back.  
  
Now he forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down, over reacting to either his deed or his mentor's reaction would do him no good. After a great deal of contemplation, he decided the best thing to do would be to be honest with his mentor when he came home and take whatever punishment was given to him like a man. Then maybe things would begin to return to normal. Zachary sank down heavily on the couch and sighed shakily. The sudden ringing of the doorbell caused him to jump.  
  
Who could be calling on him now? He glanced at the clock on the wall: 6:12 pm. He was not expecting Amanda until eight. 'Ah, Amanda,' he thought and was able to smile for the first time that day. 'God she's got great tits.' He was certain that tonight she would finally give in and sleep with him. He had been pressuring her for weeks now. He knew he needed to be careful though, he could not afford to end up on a list like the ones he perused to find his 'reckonings.' That would destroy everything he had worked so hard for.  
  
Zachary sighed, stood up, and walked to the door. As he walked passed the front windows, he glanced out the blinds and saw a van from the local cable company parked in front of the house. His brow furrowed. He had not called the cable company for anything. 'Maybe H did,' he thought.  
  
When he opened the door, he had to work to keep the sudden shock that jolted through his body from registering. It certainly was not anyone from the cable company. SHE was standing there looking as gorgeous as ever in an olive green skirt, a white ruffled poets blouse, and a long leather jacket with her red hair piled up into a clip. Standing immediately behind her, hands clasped behind his back, in a dark blue suit and a black overcoat, stood a tall man that Zachary did not recognize. Zachary noted the quick look they exchanged and he began to panic.  
  
"Hello, I'm special agent Clarice Starling with the FBI.."  
  
'Ah, you gotta love that throaty drawl,' Zachary thought.  
  
"...and this is special agent Will Graham," she smiled and held up her badge. "Would you mind if we came in and asked you a few questions?"  
  
"With regards to what?" Zachary asked and struggled to keep his voice from shaking. His master had not trained him for this yet.  
  
"There has been a string of violent home invasions in the neighborhood over the last two months and we'd just like to ask you if you have any information about them," Will said instantly.  
  
Zachary noticeably relaxed. "Oh, um, okay, sure but I haven't even heard of anything like that happening around here." He stepped aside so the federal agents could walk in. 'Maybe this is some truly ironic coincidence, Zach, just relax,' he told himself. "Have a seat," he motioned to the couches in the living room.  
  
"Thank you," Clarice replied and sat down. She pulled out a small notebook and a pen from her jacket pocket, removed her jacket and laid it on the couch next to her.  
  
Will, however, continued to stand. He scanned the room quickly and wandered nonchalantly over to the bookshelves. Clarice quickly scanned the room as well and saw nothing she would instantly link to Dr. Lecter, although the home was tastefully furnished and meticulously clean. Zachary stood behind the couch opposite the one Clarice was on and eyed Will warily, he did not want the man snooping around.  
  
"Can I get you two something to drink?" He asked.  
  
"No, thank you," Clarice replied and flashed her bright smile at him again. "Can I have your name please?"  
  
"Zachary Michael Matthews."  
  
"How long have you lived here?"  
  
"About four years I guess."  
  
"Do you own this house?"  
  
"No, it's leased."  
  
"And you are the leasee?"  
  
"What does this have to do with home invasion robberies?" Zachary asked, suddenly becoming suspicious.  
  
Clarice smiled again. "I'm sorry but I cannot disclose that information at this time." She decided to switch tactics. She knew he was eyeing her legs appreciatively and she hoped maybe she could catch him off guard. "What do you do for a living Zachary?"  
  
"I'm a student at Georgetown. I'm a senior and I've been accepted at Johns Hopkins University next fall to attain my graduate degree in psychiatry and behavioral sciences," Zachary replied proudly, smiling.  
  
At his words, Will turned around from the bookshelves and looked over Zachary's head to Clarice. They exchanged another glance and Will raised his eyebrow slightly and nodded his head at her.  
  
"Well congratulations," Clarice smiled broadly, looking back to Zachary. She remained silent, in an attempt to draw more information out of him.  
  
Zachary smiled and continued to study her legs. From there his eyes roamed greedily up to her waist and then on to her breasts. 'Damn,' he thought, 'now I know what H sees in her. She's fucking hot.' He glanced over at Will who looked over at him and nodded briefly. 'I wonder if H knows about him. God, how can he spend his days with her and not jump her? I'd fucking be all over her. Damn!'  
  
Then Zachary noticed Will was beginning to work his way closer to the hallway that led to his and Lecter's rooms. He began to panic. 'Shit, why did I let them in?' His mind screamed at him. "Um, why don't I go get us something to drink?" He asked.  
  
Clarice glanced at Will who shook his head slightly. "We're fine, Zachary, thank you though. So you lease this home?"  
  
He nodded nervously and his eyes bounced back to Will. "Yup."  
  
"Really?" Clarice questioned.  
  
"Yeah, well actually my dad does." Zachary's panic was about to overtake him. He saw no way out of this. They had caught him. 'What do I do?' His mind screamed. 'Dammit, why isn't H here?' Then he remembered the gun. It was in the desk drawer on the other side of the room where the bookshelves and the hall were, close to where the other agent stood.  
  
"Tell me about your dad, Zachary," Clarice said steadily. "What is he like?"  
  
Zachary began very slowly inching across the room in the direction of the desk. "Oh you know, he's on my ass about school all the time. He's a regular dad I guess."  
  
"What does he do for a living?"  
  
"Um," Zachary stammered. "Well, he's a doctor."  
  
"What kind of doctor?" Clarice asked.  
  
"A psychiatrist."  
  
Will and Clarice glanced at one another again.  
  
Will reached the hallway and peered down. "What's down here?" He asked.  
  
"Nothing, just bedrooms," Zachary said, continuing to inch toward the desk. He was almost there, just a few more steps.  
  
"Mind if I take a look?" Will asked.  
  
Zachary shrugged. While he did not want the agent to look in either bedroom, he realized he would have a better chance at escape if one of them was out of the room. "Sure, I guess," he said nonchalantly.  
  
Will disappeared down the hall. Zachary continued his slow progress toward the desk.  
  
"Where are you going, Zachary?"  
  
"Um," he said. "I don't know."  
  
"Then stop moving," Clarice ordered.  
  
Zachary did as he was told. He looked at the desk, he was so close. But it was still an arm's distance away. He was unsure how to proceed without drawing her suspicion. He knew he could not make any sudden movements. They stared at one another for a moment, he standing near the desk, she sitting on the couch.  
  
"Do you have a picture of your father, Zachary?" Clarice asked finally.  
  
"Sure," he replied and breathed a sigh of relief. This was his chance. He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "There's a photo album in the desk here."  
  
"Can I see it?"  
  
"Yeah sure." Zachary stepped to the desk, bent down, and opened the drawer. He placed his hand over the gun, closed his eyes briefly, and took another deep breath. It was now or never.  
  
In the blink of an eye, Zachary pulled the gun out of the drawer, whirled around, and aimed it at Clarice. Her eyes widened in surprise and she reached for her own gun. She pulled her trigger a split second before he did then she turned and ducked to avoid his bullet. But she was not fast enough. The bullet caught her in the back of her right shoulder and she yelped. Her bullet struck Zachary in this left side and he clutched at it but remained upright, pointing his gun in her direction. She remained on the floor and on her hands and knees, began to crawl around the couch to stay out of his sight. He made his way toward the front door on shaky legs, keeping his eyes on the couch in case Clarice made another move to shoot him.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Zachary saw movement in the hallway and turned his gun in that direction. Will lunged into the room, his gun raised. Zachary fired first but the bullet missed and lodged in the wall. Will fired two shots at Zachary, hitting him first in the right shoulder to disable his shooting arm and secondly directly in the stomach to put him down. The boy fell with a grunt, blood escaping onto the floor, staining the expensive Oriental rug underneath him in front of the entryway to the front door.  
  
Gun still outstretched, Will moved to where Zachary lay, picked up the boy's gun and put it in his coat pocket, looking down at him. Zachary's eyes were clenched tight and he clutched his stomach.  
  
"Fuck this hurts," he groaned  
  
"Shut up," Will said contemptuously. "Bleed in silence."  
  
He bent down slowly and felt Zachary's pulse. It felt relatively strong, the little bastard would live. Only then did Will holster his gun. The back-up agents who had been waiting in the van that Zachary had observed, Seth Williams, Keith Greene, and Sheila Parks kicked open the door and rushed in, guns raised. They lowered them when they saw the situation was under control. Clarice groaned and Will went to her. He and Seth each put an arm around her and helped her up onto the couch. She sat down, clutched her right shoulder and they saw blood quickly spreading over her blouse.  
  
"Let me see," Will said and moved her hand.  
  
Fortunately, the bullet had only nicked her as it had flown by. She had an ugly gash in the back of her shoulder but at least there was no bullet inside her. She groaned.  
  
"Dammit, what a rookie mistake," she muttered.  
  
"Don't worry about that." Will said and hurried in the direction of the hallway.  
  
Seth sat next to Clarice and inspected the wound. Keith Greene helped Zachary sit up and Sheila Parks pulled out her cell phone to call in the incident in to the Bureau. Will re-emerged from the hall with a hand towel from the bathroom. He untucked the back of her blouse and reached up inside it to place the towel on the wound. "Hold this here," he instructed. "We gotta get you to a hospital."  
  
Clarice shook her head. "No, I'm not going to the hospital."  
  
"Yes you are Clarice, you have a hole in your back." Will argued.  
  
"But there's no bullet. I'll be fine. I'm not going to the hospital," she repeated. "I'm tired and in pain, I don't wanna sit in the emergency room for five hours. Besides, we need to see if Lecter comes home."  
  
Will sighed and turned to Seth who was shaking his head at Clarice's stubbornness. "Call an ambulance for the little asshole over there," he said gesturing to the bleeding Zachary.  
  
  
  
An hour later, Zachary had been taken away in an ambulance with Agent Parks accompanying him. Shortly before his departure, Kendra Mitchell had arrived on scene with ten other agents. She had ordered them to begin scouring the home for evidence. Clarice and Will had been outraged.  
  
"You cannot have agents traipsing around through the house right now," Clarice had argued, working to ignore her flaring shoulder. "We need to stake it out and wait for Dr. Lecter to return."  
  
"We need to get the evidence out now," Kendra had replied coldy.  
  
"Fuck that," Will had spat. "The evidence will still be there tomorrow. If Lecter comes home and sees us all over it, he's gone. We'll never see him again. This is our best shot."  
  
"We are collecting the evidence now," Kendra had retorted. "If you two are going to stick around then why don't you go wait in the van and stay out of our way. I'll get the agents out as soon as we've got enough."  
  
Clarice had sighed, defeated. She pulled Will by the arm in the direction of the van.  
  
"No," Will had argued but still allowed her to lead him away. "This is fucking bullshit."  
  
"I know," Clarice had said quietly.  
  
Now, Kendra and the other agents were still moving through the house. Clarice saw their chances at nabbing Lecter slipping through their fingers. Other agents sat in parked cars at either end of the street, keeping their eyes peeled for the doctor but she knew he would be able to spot them from a mile away, he was too clever. Clarice and Will were inside the van, awaiting Lecter's return. Clarice looked at her watch. Almost 8:00 pm. She moaned slightly, clutching her right shoulder as a bolt of pain shot through it. Will looked at her and even in the dimming light of the van she looked pale. He turned to Seth and another agent, Carlos Vega.  
  
"Hey, I should get Clarice home. She needs to rest. You guys think you can handle this without us?"  
  
Seth smiled. "Yeah, get outta here you two." He paused. "We'll call you on your cell Clarice if there are any developments but I highly doubt there will be. Lecter's too smart for all of this. I bet he's already long gone thanks to the Devil incarnate."  
  
Clarice smiled bleakly. "Thanks, guys. I'm sorry to bail on you but I feel awful."  
  
"No worries," Seth said and squeezed his friend's hand. "I'll be sure and let 'Delia know you're alright. Take care of yourself."  
  
"Thanks, Seth."  
  
They exited the van and Will helped her walk to the next block where he had moved her car to keep it out of sight. She sat down heavily in the passenger seat and leaned her head back against the head rest as Will closed the door. He walked around to the driver side, got in, and started the engine. He looked over at her.  
  
"Alright, first thing's first, we need to get some food into you. You've hardly had anything to eat today and you've had a bit of blood loss so we'll hit the drive through and get some cheeseburgers to eat in the car. Then we're going to your house, getting you cleaned up, and you're going to bed." He paused and grinned wryly. "And don't argue with me about this, Starling, I mean it. This time you're at my mercy."  
  
Clarice grunted her approval and closed her eyes.  
  
  
  
Will opened the door to Clarice's home and stood back to let her enter. He walked in behind her, closed the door, and threw her keys on the coffee table. Clarice walked in, kicked off her pumps, walked to the breakfast nook and sat down on one of the stools. She swiveled her head around and rubbed her neck with her left hand. Her right arm was held protectively at her side. She was feeling better since getting some food into her although her shoulder continued to ache terribly.  
  
"Fuck this hurts," she spat. "I know the bastard just nicked me, but this hurts almost as bad as actually being shot."  
  
"I bet," Will said sympathetically. "You got anything to clean it up and bandage it with?"  
  
"In the bathroom," Clarice nodded in the direction of the hallway.  
  
He nodded and disappeared down the hall. Clarice got up and pulled a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen cupboard. She poured herself a drink and sat back down heavily on the stool. She finished the drink in one gulp and poured herself another. Will re-emerged laden with rubbing alcohol, bandages, antibacterial ointment, a washcloth, and a bottle of ibuprofen. He saw her glass and the bottle.  
  
"Self medicating are we?" He grinned and held up the ibuprofen. "I was gonna give you some of these but if you would prefer the whiskey then I won't argue with you this time." He paused. "But only 'cuz you've been shot."  
  
"Give 'em to me anyway," Clarice said and reached for the medicine.  
  
Will pulled the bottle back. "No way, you can't have both. That's bad for you, you know, mixing drugs."  
  
"Well that's the pot calling the kettle black," Clarice retored.  
  
Will grinned but said nothing and laid everything out on the nook. He rummaged in the cupboards until he found a bowl and went to the sink to fill it with warm water. While his back was turned, Clarice grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen and popped it open. The motion caused her right shoulder to scream in pain.  
  
"Shit!" Clarice exclaimed. She cupped her right shoulder with her left hand and tears sprung to her eyes. She wiped them away, put three of the tablets in her mouth, and washed them down with her drink.  
  
Will set the bowl of water down on the nook, removed his tie, unbuttoned his top button, and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He looked at her grimacing face unsympathetic. "I told you it was a bad idea. Alright, take off your shirt Starling."  
  
Clarice looked up at him and gave him an amused look. "Agent Graham, I'm not that easy."  
  
"Clarice, you're not easy at all in fact most of the time you're down right difficult." He grinned at her. "Now come on, take it off. If you won't let me take you to the hospital, then I've gotta clean it myself because you can't see it or reach it." He paused and she made no movement to remove her blouse. He rolled his eyes. "I'll be a good boy, I promise."  
  
Clarice half-smiled and began unbuttoning her blouse. "Good thing I wore my nice bra today, not the ones with all the little holes in 'em."  
  
"I don't know," Will replied mischievously, "a bra full of holes might be kinda fun." He paused. "Well, for me anyway."  
  
Clarice slugged him playfully on the shoulder with her uninjured arm. She took off her blouse, grimacing when she moved her right shoulder, looked at the huge bloodstain and the hole from the passing bullet, and threw it on the floor. "Dammit," she said. "That was one of my favorite blouses."  
  
"I'm sorry," Will said. "The sacrifices we make for this job, huh?"  
  
Clarice was suddenly self conscious about being half naked in front of him and chided herself for it. 'He's my partner,' she reminded herself again. 'Knock it off.'  
  
Will sat down on the stool next to hers, spun hers around so that her back was to him, picked up the washcloth, soaked it in the warm water and began to remove the towel that he had put on the wound at Lecter's house. He peeled it off gently but the clotted blood stuck and Clarice hissed as it was removed and the wound was partially re-opened.  
  
"Sorry," he whispered as he applied the washcloth to the back of her shoulder.  
  
He dabbed at the wound to cleanse it as best he could. It had begun to bleed again so once it was clean, he held the washcloth on it to help it re- clot. While he held it in place, he glanced up at the side of her face. Her bright chestnut hair was piled up into a clip today and small locks hung down the sides of her face. As he leaned in to check the clotting, he could smell the mingled scent of her hair and her perfume and he breathed it in. It had literally been years since he'd been this close to a woman and he had forgotten how sweet they smell and how soft they were. He looked at her bare, porcelain shoulders and her smooth, straight back and wondered what she would taste like as he ran his tongue along them. He shook his head slightly.  
  
'Stop this,' he thought. 'She's your partner for Christ's sake, you dirty old man.'  
  
Clarice turned her head slightly and met his gaze. They smiled at each other and she looked back down to the counter. She mused that she had not really noticed before how shockingly blue his eyes were. His touch as he cleaned her wound was light and gentle as a feather. Clarice closed her eyes and smiled to herself. Will soaked the washcloth again in the now red- colored water and then held it back on her shoulder. She glanced back at him again and smiled demurely.  
  
"Thank you," she said almost in a whisper.  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
When the wound had pretty well clotted, Will got up and moved to the sink. Clarice's eyes hungrily followed his every moment. He rinsed the washcloth in the sink, rung it out, and opened the bottle of rubbing alcohol. He moved to sit back down on the stool behind her.  
  
"This is gonna hurt like a bitch," he said softly.  
  
Clarice nodded. "I know," she whispered.  
  
Will held the washcloth against her shoulder just under the wound as he poured the alcohol over it. Clarice hissed and held her breath until he was done. He pressed the washcloth against the wound to be sure it was well-cleansed. Clarice squeezed her eyes tight shut as her shoulder burned and flared and tears formed behind her eyelids. After awhile, Will dropped the washcloth onto the nook, ripped open one of the bandages, and began to cover the red, clotted gap in her shoulder. Clarice rubbed her eyes and looked over her shoulder at him. As he pressed the last bandage on, he caught her gaze and held it.  
  
"You need stitches but since you're too stubborn to go to the hospital, you have to remember to change the bandages every few hours or so and put that antibiotic ointment on it each time," Will replied.  
  
"I'm gonna need someone's help to do that, I can't reach it very well myself," Clarice said and continued to hold his gaze.  
  
Will nodded. They continued to gaze at each other for a moment before Will broke it and looked away. "That's gonna scar," he gestured with his chin toward her shoulder.  
  
Clarice swiveled her stool around and their knees touched. She pointed to her left shoulder where she had been shot five years earlier as she had attempted to rescue Lecter. A clean, smooth, white scar ran across her shoulder. It was so thin it was almost invisible in her milky skin. Will could see the care and masterful work that had gone into stitching it up.  
  
"That's ok, I've already got another one," she grinned up at him.  
  
Will ran his right forefinger across it. "That's the one Lecter healed isn't it?" He asked softly. "He saved your life and you saved his."  
  
A pained look crossed her face briefly as Clarice nodded, remembering. She looked into his eyes and leaned forward ever so slightly. Will gently brushed a strand of her hair away from her face and sighed softly. He willed himself to look away from her again but he could not, she was intoxicating. He leaned forward slightly and their mouths locked together. They kissed softly. Clarice put her arms around his neck and his arms went around her waist, pulling her closer. He could faintly taste the alcohol on her sweet lips. She broke the kiss, looked into his eyes, and smiled. Will pulled her stool up against his.  
  
They gazed at each other again. 'Don't do this,' Will's mind screamed at him and this time he did look down at the floor. 'You know the consequences, don't do this.'  
  
But he had come to care for her tremendously. Not only had she helped save his life, she had also become a good friend. In the relatively short time they had spent together lately he had found himself craving to just be near her, just to see her, just to talk with her. And because of her he had found strength he never knew he had.  
  
Clarice touched his cheek softly and he met her gaze. He kissed her and this time their open mouths searched for each other in a desperate urgency. Their hands roamed and explored. Will undid the clip that held her hair and it cascaded down around her shoulders, glinting like red embers in the late evening sun that streamed through the blinds. He ran his hands through it and breathed in deeply its scent. He planted soft kisses up and down her neck and on the tops of her shoulders. When he nibbled her ear slightly, he heard her moan faintly and she pressed closer into him. Clarice slid her tongue down his neck and began to undo the buttons on his shirt. She slid her hand into his shirt and began to caress his chest. He suddenly pulled away.  
  
"I'm sorry," Will shook his head and sat back on the stool.  
  
"What's wrong?" Clarice asked.  
  
"I don't know, I just..." he trailed off and shook his head. He looked at her and his face was pained. "Molly was the only woman, well besides nurses, to see me with my shirt off. It's not a pretty sight and I'm just kind of embarrassed I guess." He shrugged. "You've got a nice little scar, mine are atrocious. They weren't stitched up nicely like yours was."  
  
Clarice took his hands in hers. "I don't care. I mean, come on Will, after everything you and I have been through together, do you really think some scars are gonna change the way I feel about you?"  
  
Will lowered his gaze. "I guess not."  
  
"It's okay," Clarice whispered. She lifted his head with her hand and their eyes met. "It's okay."  
  
She leaned in and kissed him deeply. He allowed her to remove his shirt. She broke the kiss and looked down at his chest. He had three round raised white scars clustered closely together on his chest from being shot by Francis Dolarhyde. Clarice ran her thumb over them then leaned down and kissed each scar in turn, her tongue snaked out over them. Will's head fell back and he moaned throatily. Then she noticed the jagged scar that ran along the left side of his flat stomach. She ran her thumb along it and looked into his eyes. He returned her gaze unblinking. She bent down and ran her tongue along it slowly. He moaned and when she straightened up, he took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately. Clarice pressed her body closer into his. His hands ran up her skirt, stroking her inner thighs and she moaned into his mouth. Then without warning, his mind's eye flashed the memory of Lecter plunging that stiletto into his stomach and Will pulled away again, his emotions torn.  
  
"You know, he mended yours Clarice," Will whispered huskily, "but he gave me mine."  
  
Clarice knew Will was talking about Lecter and their scars. She nodded and gazed into his eyes.  
  
"He loves you, you know," Will continued. "Probably more than either of us knows."  
  
Clarice nodded again and lowered her gaze.  
  
Will shook his head and sighed heavily. "He will literally kill me for this." He whispered painfully.  
  
Clarice looked back into his eyes and saw fear burn within them. It pained her and she ached to calm him. "I won't let him." She paused and kissed Will's nose lightly. "Besides, he'll never know."  
  
'Yes he will,' he thought. 'He watches us, Clarice.' But he said nothing. His inner turmoil raged. After years of loneliness and heartache, he had found someone he connected with. He had found someone who understood him, probably more than Molly ever had, and he understood her. But she was loved by a madman and that terrified him.  
  
"Will," Clarice replied softly. "It's alright. You don't have to do this. If you don't want me..."  
  
"Clarice I do," he said instantly. He sighed shakily. "It's just that I'm afraid. I'm afraid of the consequences of us becoming lovers. I'm afraid of the consequences of us caring deeply for each other."  
  
"But Will, I already care for you deeply," Clarice replied and smiled. "It's okay."  
  
"Then I'm afraid of the consequences of us maybe loving each other."  
  
"Will," she whispered. "It's alright. Just be with me."  
  
He looked into her eyes again and all he could see was her. In that moment all that mattered was her. And she was so warm, so soft that he just wanted to lose himself in her.  
  
Clarice brushed his lips with hers and planted little kisses on his cheek and neck until she reached his ear. "Make love to me, Will," she purred into his ear and licked it.  
  
That was all he needed. Shutting out the consequences, Will clamped his mouth over hers and pulled her off her stool on top of him so she was straddling him. She wrapped her legs around his back and they moaned simultaneously. He stood up, and carried her to the bedroom.  
  
  
  
To be continued. Please review!  
  
Author's Note: I know that A LOT of you are not going to like this chapter and I apologize, but for the story, it had to be done!! So please no hate mail!! You can tell me your opinions but don't verbally abuse me..much!  
  
Sorry, no reviews to your reviews this time. Next time I promise I will as I'm sure many of you will have a lot to say about this chapter! But thank you all so much for your great reviews...I love them. 


	14. Chapter 14: Day of Reckoning

Author's Note: Hello all! This chapter is rated R for sexuality and language so if you're under 17, don't read it (yeah right)!! Well, consider yourselves warned! This is the last chapter that I will post under the story's current rating and I know I should change the rating based on this chapter but I did not warn y'all last time so you'd know where to look for it on FanFiction. **Rambling** Anyway, as I stated, you've been warned as to content and that's about all I can do. MC - thank you so much, you're so awesome!  
  
Chapter 14: Day of Reckoning  
  
The night was clear and cool. A light breeze scuttled the dead autumn leaves briskly up the street and past the Jaguar. Hannibal Lecter, sitting inside, was beside himself with anger. Zachary Matthews had betrayed him. After all he had done for the boy, after all he had given him, after all he had taught him, he had grown impatient and acted rashly. The boy's rash behavior had led the FBI, most certainly led by Clarice and Will, right to their home.  
  
Lecter clenched his teeth as he recalled earlier in the evening. He had been on his way home to shower and change before heading over to Clarice's office for his usual nocturnal observance of her and to be sure that Will was continuing to act like a gentleman. Lecter had seen the news and realized Zachary's lapse in judgment and its implications had him fuming already but he had decided to not speak with the boy about it until tomorrow when he had calmed down some. Unlike his protégé, he did not want to act too rashly. He knew he would have to decide what to do with Zachary but for tonight, he just needed to see Clarice.  
  
He had approached his street and was about to turn onto it when he had spied a white Ford Crown Victoria, one of the FBI's standard issues, parked near the corner with two gentlemen inside. Lecter's brow had furrowed and he had driven past the street and circled around to the other end of his block, trying not to think the worst. Surely the FBI could not be on to them already, it was much too fast. At the other end of the street as he had driven by, he had observed another white Crown Victoria also with two occupants and at that moment he had known that he and Zachary had been discovered and that their home had been invaded.  
  
Lecter had not stopped but had continued driving, seething with anger at Zachary's insolence. Everything he had worked for over the last five years had vanished in the blink of an eye. His quest for a sense of normalcy was now even further out of his reach. His hope that one day soon he could convince Clarice of her true feelings for him now disappeared in an instant. He would have to begin back at square one with everything again. He had driven around for hours aimlessly, hands tightly clenched on the steering wheel, until he had managed to calm down somewhat. During that time his mind had worked frantically as he had devised a new course of action for his life and it had saddened him tremendously.  
  
It was now almost 2 am and he sat in his Jaguar just down the street from Clarice's home. He had been sitting for only a short time, his eyes flicking back and forth around the neighborhood and her home to see if he could detect anyone observing him or anything out of the ordinary. He was afraid the FBI might now be on to him and his activities. But he sensed nothing. The neighborhood was comatose in the late hour.  
  
Lecter sighed, leaned his head back against the headrest, closed his eyes, and his thoughts drifted back into melancholy. He thought of all he had lost today. The only things he had left were his Clarice and his freedom but if he was not careful, he would lose that as well. But he was not ready to be on the move again, he was tired of running.  
  
'Damn that boy,' he thought bitterly and now leaned forward placing his head against the steering wheel. 'Damn, damn, damn.'  
  
Dr. Lecter's heart was broken. The boy he had put faith, trust, time, money and energy into had failed him and failed him immensely. Now his simple, routine life had once again been turned upside down and he knew he must once again start over. For now, Lecter had decided the best thing to do would be to forego his plans for Will and just leave the country. He would do that first thing in the morning. As far as his fun with Will Graham was concerned, Lecter decided he would be patient and bide his time.  
  
'All good things to those who wait,' he repeated his own advice. "But God help him if he touches my Clarice," he said aloud in the still of the night, her name rolling smoothly off his tongue.  
  
For tonight, for one last time before he left, he had to see her. He ached to see her. He ached to watch her chest rise and fall slowly as she breathed. He ached to smell her hair. He ached to softly touch her skin. He ached to whisper so softly of his undying love. He ached to soothe his weary broken soul and the sight of Clarice always did just that.  
  
Dr. Lecter lifted his head, opened his eyes and glanced again at Clarice's home. He knew the incredible risk he was taking but he had to take it. He must see her one last time if he possibly could. Just to see her as she slept would help heal his broken heart. Her home was dark, just as it usually was this time of night. But he knew that she could be in there, sitting in the dark, gun held lightly in her lap, surrounded by twenty five other agents including Will Graham, awaiting his entry.  
  
Slowly, like a panther on the prowl, Lecter stepped out of his car and made his way across the street toward her home, his eyes, ears, nose, and internal radar working like mad to detect the slightest sense of danger. His coat tails flapped lightly in the breeze. He crept up to her front porch and crouched beneath her windows, eyes darting every which way. Very slowly he lifted his head and peeked in. Through the thin curtains he saw nothing out of the ordinary, certainly no federal agents. He slunk to the front door, bypassing a clump of dead leaves, and quietly unlocked it. He stuck his head in slowly, searching for danger. He sensed none. He slowly opened the door and stepped into her comfortable living room.  
  
The first thing he noticed was the change of scent within it. His sensitive nose instantly detected that her home carried a different scent than the usual smell of cleanser, the combined scents of her perfume and lotion, and the sweet smell of vanilla from the air freshener. He sniffed the air and detected the scent of burning candles, although they were burning no longer as he also detected the pungent scent of smoke that permeates the air once a candle is extinguished. He sniffed again and detected another, very subtle underlying scent as well. It was the tangy scent of sex.  
  
"No," Lecter hissed and his eyes grew wide. He shook his head. "No." He repeated.  
  
That is when he noticed the second change within her home. Instead of the rhythmic sound of her breathing he now heard the sound of lovemaking. Then he heard Clarice moan softly. He could make out the sound of faint but urgent whispers, hers and a man's, coming from her bedroom and the gentle, quiet squeak of bedsprings as the mattress gave way under the lovers.  
  
Lecter closed his eyes and a feeling unlike any he had ever felt before flared within him. In all his life he had never wanted to kill someone so badly, not even when he had captured Dr. Frederick Chilton, not even in the midst of one of his strongest sociopathic urgings. It took every ounce of strength he had to not walk into her room and tear Will limb from limb. What did the man think he was doing? Lecter had specifically warned him, hell, he had spelled it right out for him the consequences he would suffer if he crossed the line with Clarice.  
  
'Maybe it's not Will,' his fevered mind spoke fervently. 'Just go wait in your car until he leaves and then see who it is.'  
  
"No," Lecter grumbled again.  
  
Despite his obsession with politeness, Dr. Lecter had to know who the man was now. He had never before violated Clarice's trust by spying on her during any intimate moments, whether she was changing her clothes, or showering, or even making love, but he could not stand the thought that Will Graham could be in bed with HIS Clarice right now. He could not stand the thought that Will Graham could have his mouth on her, his hands on her, and be the one making her moan in pleasure like that.  
  
Lecter moved quietly to the hall and inched slowly toward her room. As he got closer, he could better make out the fevered whisperings. It was a man's voice now but he was unable to discern if it was Will's or not. Then he heard Clarice moan again, "Oh God", her southern drawl husky.  
  
He slunk down the hall with his back to the wall as he neared the door to her room and he sank to his knees on the soft carpet. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, willing himself not to look. It would scar him eternally to see her making love to any man, but worst of all to Will Graham.  
  
'For my own sake, but especially for his, don't let it be Will,' Lecter thought fervently. 'Don't let it be Will.'  
  
On his knees with his eyes clenched tightly closed, Dr. Lecter resembled a devout religious man in the throes of repentance to his Lord and his persistent deliberations were indeed as pious as a sinner's pleas. He re- opened his eyes, and slowly peered into Clarice's room. Lecter's breath caught in his chest. It was as if the Lord had shunned the sinner for his repeated indiscretions.  
  
Indeed, he saw his beloved, his Clarice, straddling Will. Her body was slick with a light sheen of sweat and the moonlight streaming through the window illuminated her. Her chestnut hair was tousled and fell around her face. His hands roamed from her thighs to the grooves of her ribs and up to her breasts. He squeezed them gently and she threw her head back, moaning in pleasure. As Dr. Lecter watched, Will sat up, kissing her breasts, her shoulders, her neck, he lifted her up slightly, laid her back down gently on the bed, and she wrapped her legs around his back. He held her arms above her head against the mattress for a few moments with one hand, dominating her, while his other hand roamed her body. He gazed into her eyes for a moment before letting her arms go. He whispered something in her ear and she kissed him deeply on the mouth, their tongues intertwining. Lecter heard Clarice moan again, "My God, oh my God" and he watched as she dug her nails into Will's back. He groaned in pleasure and gently nibbled her shoulder. Then, as he watched, Will did the very thing that Lecter himself had fantasized about doing; he leaned down and slowly licked the sweat from her neck, causing Clarice to gasp in pleasure.  
  
Lecter could stand no more. He turned away, tears rolling slowly down his cheeks. His heart was broken for a second time that night and he felt as if he had now indeed lost everything. Utter despair gripped his heart. Even his will to live was absent in that moment. All he could do was sit there and listen to their lovemaking finishing. He heard Clarice whisper ever so softly, "Oh, Will", and the sound of her whispering his name was like a thousand needles piercing Lecter's heart at once.  
  
'She should whisper my name,' his mind cried.  
  
He closed his eyes and put his head in his hands, the image of them burned into his brain. As he sat there, disparaged, a new plan suddenly began to take shape within his mind. As it coalesced he wiped his eyes and managed a small smile. His grin in the darkened hallway would have made their blood run cold had they seen it. He would make both of them, Clarice and Will whisper his name in turn. Indeed, Clarice would whisper it in pleasure, and Will would whisper it in pain.  
  
Satisfied that the day of reckoning would soon come, Lecter leaned his head back against the wall and listened to them talking now.  
  
"God, you're so beautiful," Will said softly and Lecter heard him kiss her.  
  
"Thank you," Clarice responded quietly and Lecter could hear the smile in her voice. "My God, Will, four times already. Not bad for an old man," she teased.  
  
"Now you're making me feel like a cradle robber," he smiled.  
  
"Mmmm," she said and kissed him. "You know we'll have to watch ourselves at work, we can't let on that we're sleeping together."  
  
"Mental note: cancel plans to ravage Clarice in the lunch room," Will laughed.  
  
"You're terrible," Clarice laughed.  
  
They were silent for a while. Lecter peered carefully back into the room. Clarice's head lay on Will's chest and she was running her fingers absently back and forth along the scar that he himself had given Will. Will's hands ran through her hair and he kissed her head lightly.  
  
"I think we blew it, Will," she said softly. "We blew our chance at catching him. Seth was right, he's long gone by now and we'll probably never see him again. Damn that Kendra!" she said vehemently. "This time she went too far."  
  
"Don't worry about that right now, Clarice." He said softly and paused. "Listen, I was thinking, maybe you should go stay at the safehouse for awhile."  
  
Clarice lifted her head and looked at him. "You mean our safehouse? The Quantico safehouse? Why?"  
  
"I just think you'll be safer there for awhile." He said softly and stroked her cheek. "There's something I have to do and I don't want you getting mixed up in it."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
He paused and closed his eyes, swallowing the lump of fear that rose up in his throat. "I have to face Lecter. I highly doubt he's gone. In fact, he's probably very near."  
  
Clarice propped herself up on one elbow so she could see his face better. "What are you talking about Will? What do you mean you have to face him? How are you going to do that when we don't know where he is now?"  
  
"He'll find me," Will said simply.  
  
Clarice's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"  
  
Will sighed and sat up. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pulled on his boxers. He stood up and moved to where his pants lay in a heap on the floor. He rummaged in the back pocket and pulled out a single sheet of paper. He held it out to her and she took it. She sat up and clutched the sheet around her.  
  
"The letter that I got earlier today," he said softly. "I should have told you the truth from the beginning but I was attempting to protect you and I guess I also didn't want to believe its implications. I'm sorry." He shrugged.  
  
Clarice looked at him for a moment, then opened the letter and read it. As she read, her eyes grew wider and she put her hand over her mouth. Will sat on the edge of the bed and watched her read it. She finished and looked up at him.  
  
"Oh my God, Will," she said, her voice rising. "You should have told me. You've got to get out of here." She threw off the sheet, got out of bed, and pulled her panties on. "If he discovers you're here..."  
  
"He probably already knows," Will interrupted softly.  
  
Clarice walked around to where Will sat. He took her hands and pulled her toward him. She sat on his lap and put her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder. He held her close, caressing her bare back.  
  
"Oh shit," she said desperately into his neck. "Oh God, what are we gonna do?"  
  
Will kissed her forehead. "You are going to go to the safehouse and.."  
  
Clarice sat up. "No," she interrupted. I'm not going to the safehouse. I'm staying here with you, we will draw him out together and we will capture him together."  
  
In the hallway Lecter smiled. He'd heard enough and he'd certainly seen more than he'd wanted to. It was time to finalize his plans. He stood up slowly and began to make his way back up the hallway. He reached the living room and made his way for the front door. He opened it quietly to make his way out and as he did, a gust of autumn wind blew in and knocked over a vase on the coffee table. It hit the floor and shattered.  
  
In the bedroom, Clarice and Will looked up instantly. Will stood up, sliding Clarice off him onto the bed. He pulled on his shoes hurriedly and plucked his .45 off the floor. He checked to be sure it was loaded, cocked it, and made his way toward the bedroom door, gun outstretched before him. Clarice got up, pulled a tee-shirt out of her closet, and slipped it on gingerly because of her shoulder. She found her gun, cocked it, and followed after him. Will reached the door, looked at Clarice and shook his head.  
  
"Stay in the hallway in case he doubles back for the front door," Will said quietly.  
  
Clarice nodded.  
  
Holding his gun in both hands out in front of him, Will methodically turned on every light as he went slowly through the house checking every closet, door, and corner. He saw the shattered vase on the floor of the living room, but there was no sign of Lecter himself. Both doors were locked and all the windows were closed and locked. He found nothing.  
  
"Shit," Will muttered and lowered his gun. He sighed shakily and ran his hand through his hair. "Clarice," he called.  
  
"All clear back here, Will," she called back. "Nothing."  
  
"He's not here."  
  
Clarice came out into the living room, holding her gun at her side. She looked at the broken vase on the floor and her brow furrowed. Will looked out the window into her front yard and saw a shadow move. In the blink of an eye, he held his gun back up, went to the front door, unlocked it quietly, and burst outside.  
  
"Will?" Clarice called after him.  
  
The bitter night air hit him square in the face and took his breath away for an instant. He walked slowly around the exterior of the house, gun raised, breathing hard, heart pounding in his chest as if it would explode, trying to look everywhere at once. "I know you're here you son of a bitch," he whispered. "Come out and face me like a man."  
  
But there was no one. Will walked slowly out the front gate and looked up and down the street. There were a few cars parked along the side of the road, but he saw no one. Leaves continued to swirl up the street in the wind. Clarice bounded out the door and came to stand beside him. She clutched her long cardigan sweater tightly around her and shivered. Her legs were still bare.  
  
"Will, it's freezing," her teeth began to chatter. "Come inside. He's not here."  
  
Will turned a circle in the street, scanning the neighborhood, gun still outstretched before him. He began to shiver in the chill of the night and remembered he was only clad in his boxers. Clarice took his arm and pulled him in the direction of her house.  
  
"Get in the house before we freeze to death." She said. "Thank God the neighbors are asleep otherwise we'd be givin' them a peep show."  
  
He allowed her to lead him inside. She hugged him tightly and he squeezed her close. He kissed the top of her head and sighed.  
  
"He was here, Clarice, I know he was." Will paused and shook his head slowly. "Shit, he probably watched me make love to you. I should have seen this sooner than now but I didn't..he watches you, Clarice. I thought it was just an admiration from afar because of all the notes and gifts, but I was wrong." He paused and looked into her eyes. "Remember when I said that his notes contain an urgent longing to them? Perhaps the reason they do is because he is around you everyday..he sees you everyday and that has caused his desire to be with you grow more intense. Dammit, why didn't I see this until now?"  
  
"I don't think so, Will," she said softly. "If he did watch me, I'd know it. I'd feel it..I'd feel him."  
  
"Clarice, you've told me that you feel like he's near you most often at night. How often do you feel that way?"  
  
"Quite a bit. But that's just because I feel this sadistic connection with him. I allowed him inside my head and shared intimate details about myself with him. Plus, I've been working this case so long. I've been living, breathing, and sleeping him..he's in my psyche, that's why I feel him near. It isn't because he actually follows me."  
  
Will nodded. "Yes it is, Clarice. You just don't want to admit it to yourself."  
  
Clarice looked at him with fearful eyes, realization dawning on her face. She shook her head slowly. "No," she whispered, fearful.  
  
"Yes," Will said softly. "Think about it, every time you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Every time you feel like you're being watched. Every time you spot a stranger and do a double take. Every time you think you can feel him in the very room with you. Every time, Clarice, it's him. I know it is."  
  
She pulled away and looked at him. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered involuntarily. The very thought of Hannibal Lecter following her, observing her in her own home, watching her and Will tonight as they made love unnerved her. "God how creepy." She paused and a pained look crossed her face. "Oh fuck," she groaned and put her head in her hands. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she said loudly. She shook her head to clear away her sudden case of the willies. "Okay, but if he was in here tonight and saw us, don't you think he would've gone nuts and tried to kill you?"  
  
"I don't think he'd do it in front of you."  
  
"So he'd have to wait until you were alone."  
  
Will nodded solemnly.  
  
"Well," Clarice wrapped her arms around his waist. "I just can't let you leave my sight then." She grinned for a moment before growing serious again. "You think he was here the entire time?"  
  
"I really hope not," Will smiled and pulled her closer. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Especially when I did..well..that one thing you really liked."  
  
Clarice grinned. "Which 'one thing' do you mean?"  
  
He smiled down at her and planted a kiss on her cheek then let her go. "We need to get out of here," he said and moved down the hallway toward the bedroom.  
  
"And go where?" She followed him into the bedroom.  
  
"We can stay at a hotel tonight and figure out tomorrow if we're gonna stay there or what we're going to do. We just need to be sure we're not being followed. I would just feel safer knowing that he didn't know where we actually are." Will smiled grimly. "Now come pack a bag."  
To be continued. Please review!  
  
Hey faithful readers: As many of you probably know, there have been some problems on FanFiction regarding reviews. Most of your names showed up on the email reviews I received but did not show up on the site. For those whose names did not show up, you are designated with "0". I apologize but I'm just not sure who reviewed since there was no name on either the email or the web site. Maybe in the future, we should all take Kurt's advice and sign our name at the end of our reviews at least until when and if the problem is taken care of on FF.  
  
Mel: Ah, it's good to see you review again! I'm so glad that you are enjoying this story. LOL - as far as the GD not killing Will, you'll just have to stay tuned! My lips are sealed! Hey I have to have something to keep everyone coming back right! Thanks again so much for reading and reviewing.  
  
Nan: LOL, yes, the GD was none too pleased as we read in this chapter! I'm glad that Will and Clarice work well for you and thanks as always to your wonderful reviews!  
  
Kurt: LMAO Grand High Poobah!! I loved your review! I hope this chapter contained the right level of Will/Clarice moosh for you! LOL! There's more in store for Zachary although I'm not sure how much more in this story. But I definitely plan on doing a sequel with him, most everyone seems to be intrigued by him. So we will see him again. Thanks for your continued reading and reviewing.  
  
0: LOL, well if steam came out of the computer on the last chapter, I can only imagine what happened with this one! Thank you so much for your great review.  
  
0: Thank you for your nice review. It is always a compliment when I get a Hannibal/Clarice fan telling me they are enjoying the Will/Clarice "moosh" (as Kurt says). Yes, you're right. I did not take the time to delve into Zachary's past much in this fic but I will definitely in the sequel. Thanks so much again for reading and reviewing.  
  
0: I hope this chapter was worth the wait! I agree with you on the Will/Clarice fling giving the story a unique and intriguing angle, there's so much Hannibal/Clarice romance but rarely are other possibilities for Clarice ever explored. I'm so glad you like the story. Thanks so much again for your review.  
  
0: ****high fives you back**** LOL, I'm so happy you like the chapter. Thank you for your kudos on Will. I've worked very hard on his characterization to make all the anti-Will fanatics maybe like him a little! See you next chapter!  
  
Morbid: I'm not sure if you've read all the way up to this chapter since your review was for chapter 1. I'm so glad you liked the 'Devil Incarnate' nickname. I've had some bosses and teachers that fit that description myself. An actual skeleton is in her closet?? Yikes, that's scary! As far as Seth Williams' first name is concerned, LOL, yes, in Star Wars, the individuals on the dark side of the Force are called 'Sith' and no, I did not name him for them! I named him Seth because I absolutely LOVE that name for a man. Thank you for reading and reviewing.  
  
luna: LOL! Well, the ending to this story may or may not be 'happy' for you but I will say no more! Zachary may not show up again in this story, I'm not sure yet. But as I said above, look for a sequel with him when this story is done. Thank you so much for your great review.  
  
Shattered Mug (AKA Faithful Reviewer and Price of Infamy Junkie!!): As always, your review had me rolling with laughter! Now, my one comment is this; if you think Will is a 'dirty old man' what does that make Hannibal who is older than he? LOL! I'm really glad you love this story! And I'm glad you don't hate me for making you love it! I hope the GD's reactions in this chapter were okay. Believe me, there's much more from him to come!!  
  
Zechs Merquise: Hi and thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I'm pleased that you find the story well written and that you are enjoying it. Yes, I'm sorry for ending Chapter 13 there but I do enjoy torturing my readers! Hopefully this chapter gave you a little more to enjoy! Thanks again for reading and reviewing.  
  
Desanera: Thank you for the review. While I understand your feelings regarding Hannibal/Clarice, I do appreciate the fact that you can look past that and see the story for its strengths. Thanks again.  
  
GUTB: There is so much I could say in reply to your flaming review but I'll leave it at this: since you seem to have a major superiority complex, 'Super Genius', perhaps you would do well to keep in mind that the rest of us are mere mortals when you read our stories. And one other thing, considering you have only posted ONE story with ONE chapter (and it isn't even a 'Hannibal' or 'SOTL' story), I do not think you have much room to belittle others' efforts too harshly.  
  
Kaitlyn: Thank you so much for your review. Actually, I really didn't receive *any* whiners about Hannibal and Clarice. At least, not bad ones anyway! LOL, thanks again for reading and reviewing.  
  
LittleMy: LOL, I'm glad you liked this chapter. As far as your homework is concerned, when I'm writing these chaps, I usually have homework I should be doing as well but this is just so much more interesting! No, Zachary is not going to die, he's far too intriguing. Thanks so much for reviewing.  
  
Schrander: Thank you so much for your great review. I'm glad that someone picked up on the scar contrast between Will and Clarice at the hands of the GD. Thanks so much again.  
  
guber: If I told you the outcome of the story, then it would not be a surprise. I cannot tell you if Clarice ends up with Hannibal or not, you have to keep reading. I am pleased that you do like the story regardless. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. 


	15. Chapter 15: The Morning After

Chapter 15: The Morning After  
  
From underneath the warm blankets, Clarice groaned and rolled over onto her left side. With both eyes closed, she reached her right arm out into the frigid room carefully so as not to aggravate her wound, felt around on the bedside table until her hand found the phone, and plucked the receiver from its cradle.  
  
"Hello?" she croaked drowsily.  
  
An automated voice met her ear. "This is your wake up call."  
  
Clarice groaned again and hung up the phone. She rolled back onto her stomach and burrowed under the blankets. The warm body beside her stirred and she felt the mattress move as he rolled over to face her.  
  
Will cracked an eye open and saw early morning sunlight streaming in behind the curtains. He rubbed his heavy eyes and stretched his arms out above his head. He could not believe it was already 7 am. The two of them had not arrived at the hotel the night before until well after 3. He snuggled up next to Clarice, draping his right arm across her back. She inched her head forward until it rested under his chin and sighed contentedly.  
  
"Do we really have to get up?" Will groaned, his eyes closed.  
  
"We do if we're gonna make it to work." Clarice mumbled. Her eyes remained closed as well.  
  
He planted small kisses on her forehead and slowly worked his way down to her ear lobe. He nibbled on it and he heard her sigh with pleasure. "Because I got a much better idea," he said. "Let's stay here, locked away from the world today and just stay in bed." His hand stroked her back seductively.  
  
"Mmmmm," Clarice purred. "I'd love to but you know we can't." She rolled onto her right side to face him, ignored the flash of pain this caused her shoulder, kissed him, and ran her hand slowly along his chest to his stomach to his thigh to his..  
  
"Oh, that's not fair," he moaned. He smiled at her and kissed her mouth deeply, his hands sliding tantalizingly along her skin. Then he pulled away quickly, threw the covers off of them and sat up on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Shit, it's cold in here," Clarice yelped, pulling the blankets back up around her protectively. "Why'd you do that?"  
  
Will stood up and moved to turn on the heater. "Cuz otherwise we'll never get to work." He looked back at the bed and saw Clarice watching him.  
  
"Come back to bed, Agent Graham," she cooed. "I'll make it worth your while."  
  
He grinned, walked over to the bed, leaned down and kissed her lightly. She gripped his shoulders and pulled him down closer to her, extending the kiss. But he pulled the covers off her again quickly and piled them onto the floor. "Come take a shower with me, Agent Starling. I'll make it worth your while." He grinned.  
  
Clarice yelped again at the cold, got up and pulled one of the blankets off the floor and wrapped it around her. She sat back down on the edge of the bed and rubbed her weary eyes. Meanwhile, Will walked into the bathroom, his feet padding on the ice cold tile and turned the hot water on in the shower. He walked back to the doorway and, leaning against the door frame, waiting for the water to heat up, he watched as Clarice yawned and stretched.  
  
"How's your shoulder this morning?" He asked.  
  
"Extremely sore," she grimaced. "But I did not give it the rest it deserved last night."  
  
"I'm sorry," Will said.  
  
Clarice shrugged. "It's a small price to pay," she grinned.  
  
Steam began to fill up the bathroom and escape out the door into the room. Clarice stood up, dropped her blanket, and scurried for the warmth of the bathroom. She closed the door behind her to keep it from escaping. She turned around and Will met her with a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and his arms wrapped around her waist. They embraced tightly and he lifted her up until she stood on her tip toes. She heard him sigh shakily into her ear.  
  
"I don't want to go back to the real world, Clarice." He whispered. "There is a monster stalking us."  
  
"I know," she whispered back. "Suddenly I'm afraid and I hate myself for it."  
  
He let her go and looked into her face. "I'm afraid too."  
  
"I've never been afraid of him before except in my dreams and I don't like the feeling."  
  
Will smiled wryly. "I feel like that's all I've ever been of him whether I was awake or asleep."  
  
Clarice regarded him for a moment and her brow furrowed. "You said he'd never hurt someone I care for, you said he would think that rude," she argued.  
  
"I didn't think that the someone in question would be me," he said gently and moved behind her to remove her bandages. "He's hated me passionately ever since I caught him the first time. He will not let that go. And imagine how this feels for him, Clarice. To know that the woman he loves more than anything not only doesn't love him back but is now sleeping with the man he hates more than anything." He removed the bandage and inspected the wound. "I'm no doctor, Clarice, and I wish you'd let me take you to the hospital just to get this checked. It still looks very raw and angry."  
  
Clarice folded her arms across her chest and shook her head stubbornly. "I'll live. Just give me some ibuprofen."  
  
Will, rolling his eyes, snagged the bottle off the bathroom counter and tossed it to her. She popped open the lid and swallowed three pills. Will moved to the shower to test the temperature of the running water. He twisted the knobs until it was just right.  
  
"Will," Clarice said quietly. "We could run."  
  
He straightened up and looked at her. "Run?" He asked. "Run where?"  
  
"Anywhere. It doesn't matter. Just as long as he couldn't hurt you." Her eyes blazed defiantly.  
  
Will took her in his arms and held her close. "You know he'd find us eventually, Clarice." He said softly into her hair. "Besides is that how you want to live? Always on the run? Always looking over your shoulder? Always questioning and being suspicious of everything?"  
  
She looked up at him and shook her head. "No." She said dismally.  
  
"We cannot escape this, Clarice, no matter how badly we want to." He pulled back the shower curtain. "Come on, let's get showered. We gotta get going or we're going to be late."  
  
They stepped into the warmth of the shower and Clarice let the water cascade down over her head and body. Will smiled appreciatively and ran his hands slowly up the curves of her body. Her porcelain skin began to turn pinkish under the heat of the water. She smoothed her wet now dark mahogany hair back, opened her eyes, and looked at him.  
  
"So what do we do now? Just sit back and wait for him to come for you?"  
  
Will gulped and took a deep breath. "Pretty much," he whispered and she shook her head gloomily.  
  
He lifted her chin with one of his hands and looked into her eyes. "It'll be alright," he whispered.  
  
He pressed closer into her body and the hot water trickled over him. She pressed back against him until there was not even a millimeter in between their curves. He rubbed her nose softly with his and smiled at her. She managed a small smile and he kissed her, his mouth taking possession of her mouth and tongue. Will slowly turned her around so that her back was to him, continually kissing her neck, her shoulders, and her back, he lifted her hips up slightly, spread her legs, and pressed her up against the warm tile of the shower wall. Clarice cleared her mind of fear and uncertainty and gave herself up to the desire that he caused to once again consume her.  
An hour later, they walked into the Behavioral Science division and found it abuzz with activity. Agents answered busy phones, scurried from desk to desk, keyboards clacked, and there were shouts over the din at one another. Kendra Mitchell leaned against a filing cabinet, arms crossed, talking to one of the agents, glowering. She glanced up, saw them, and stalked toward them.  
  
"Where the hell have you been?" She glared at Clarice. "We've been trying to reach you all night at your home and then on your cell phone."  
  
"What's wrong?" Clarice asked.  
  
"Lecter never came home last night that we can tell. If he attempted to, we never saw him," Kendra sighed and noticed the 'we told you so' glance between Will and Clarice. She looked weary and stressed with dark crescents under her eyes. She ran her hands through her blonde hair distractedly. "This morning we alerted the local and national news stations and the Associated Press that he has been residing in the D.C. area. The story broke a couple of hours ago. We've been swamped with calls."  
  
"You did what?" Will asked. He shook his head, incredulous and inhaled sharply.  
  
"Why did you do that?" Clarice asked, stunned.  
  
"We couldn't reach you and I made the decision." Kendra replied haughtily.  
  
"But I was home until 2 am and I've had my cell phone with me all night. There were no calls to either one," Clarice argued. "How dare you make a decision like that on my case."  
  
"You were unreachable," Kendra countered coldly. "With the public notified, we stand a better chance of catching him. Someone will see him, and then he'll be ours."  
  
"No," Clarice said simply and shook her head. "You don't know him. What you've done is turned this case into a circus and pushed Dr. Lecter further underground. Now he'll take more precautions and more carefully calculate his movements." She turned to Will. "We'll never see him coming now," she said in desperation.  
  
"What?" Kendra asked. "Coming where?"  
  
"He's not pleased that I have joined the case," Will replied. "We were going to try and draw him out and now you've blown the chance at us having the upper hand at all."  
  
"My God, Kendra," Clarice said quietly. "Where did you get your training from? The back of a cereal box? First you cause us to lose the element of surprise last night by allowing agents free roam of the house thus most assuredly alerting Lecter to our presence. And now this? You have no idea what you've done. Not only have you just put the lives of your agents on the line but now you're lying to my face about having tried to have reached me last night."  
  
Kendra leaned forward until her nose was almost touching Clarice's. She held her forefinger out to her. "Listen to me, you little whiney piece of.."  
  
Before she could finish her statement, Will forcibly took Kendra by the arm and pulled her out into the hallway.  
  
"Hey!" she exclaimed. "Get your hands off me!"  
  
He held her arm as she squirmed so she was forced to look at him. "Look you backstabbing, conniving, manipulating, pain in the ass little bitch," he breathed. "You have hindered the capture of Hannibal Lecter from your first day here. You're more interested in seeing your face on the news and in your own advancement than in the safety of your own agents. You make me sick. You belittle agents, you undermine them, you abuse them, and you sexually harass them. And it's going to stop now."  
  
Kendra pulled her arm out of his grip and glared at him. "Don't you threaten me you fuck. Without me, you're nothing. I gave you a second chance, Graham, don't you forget that. You were a washed up nobody until I allowed you to come back here. Don't fuck with me or I'll have your badge back in a heartbeat."  
  
Will pulled his badge and ID off of the waistline of his pants and dropped it onto the floor. "Take it," he said. "But don't you ever forget that I made the decision to come back here, you didn't. Once I made the decision to help, I would've worked this case with or without access to the building because Agent Starling asked me to. You have nothing to do with this." He smirked at her. "Besides if I were you, I wouldn't be making any threats against me right now."  
  
She scowled at him. "Why's that?"  
  
"Remember our little conversation in your office my first day here?"  
  
Uncertainty registered briefly on her face then disappeared. "Yes."  
  
He smiled. "I have the whole thing on tape, Kendra." He tapped a finger to his lips. "Hmm, I wonder what would be the D.A.'s favorite part? I know! I bet it'd be when you told me that once I'd captured Lecter and you and I had spent the night together, we'd then discuss my future back here in Behavioral Science."  
  
"You're bluffing," she hissed into his face.  
  
"Try me." He looked her squarely in the eye.  
  
She stood there glaring icily at him for a moment and then sighed heavily. "So what do you want?" She asked coolly.  
  
"I want you to leave Behavioral Science for good so that these agents can take back control of their own cases and the decisions that are made."  
  
Kendra's eyes narrowed to slits and she stared him down. "And if I don't?"  
  
"Then the tape will be in the hands of the D.A. by the end of the week."  
  
Kendra stood there glaring at him for a moment. Then she whirled and stormed down the hall in the direction of the elevators, her blonde hair bouncing out behind her. Clarice, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest, had watched the entire exchange and walked up to Will, dumbfounded.  
  
"Is that true? She propositioned you?" Clarice asked, incredulous.  
  
"And then some."  
  
"And you really got it on tape?" Clarice's brow furrowed in disbelief.  
  
"No, but she doesn't know that for sure," Will smiled half-heartedly. "Hopefully she won't call my bluff."  
  
Clarice sighed heavily and ran a hand through her hair. "Okay, so what now?"  
  
Will shook his head. "I don't know. I really don't. God this whole thing has become so fucked up."  
  
They both stood in the hallway and pondered the situation. Clarice moved to the water cooler and filled a paper cup with cold water. She took a long sip.  
  
"A media statement to draw him out won't work, he'd see right through it," Will muttered.  
  
"We could shadow you for a few days," Clarice suggested. "Maybe he'd try to nab you."  
  
"No, he'd figure that out too."  
  
They were both silent, each lost in thought.  
  
"What if I were in the hospital?" Clarice asked quietly.  
  
"He wouldn't go to the hospital to see you now, thanks to Kendra, he'd wait until you were released."  
  
Clarice shook her head slowly. "Not to get him to come see me but to get him to come see you."  
  
"Why would your being in the hospital make him come after me?" Will asked.  
  
"Because you put me there," she said quietly.  
  
Their eyes locked and held for a moment, both pondering the implications of the suggestion. Clarice took another sip of water, her eyes never leaving his. Another agent walked passed them in the hallway and they barely noticed him.  
  
Finally, Will shook his head. "He'd never buy it, he'd know I'd never hit you."  
  
"He'd know the sober side of you never would, but what about the addict side? Or the drunk side? You could lose it in a fit of drunken rage."  
  
"I don't like it, Clarice." Will shook his head. "It's too risky. He'd be able to tell it was staged."  
  
"So then we don't stage it."  
  
Will looked at her, incredulous. "Absolutely not. I'm not going to get drunk and beat you up on the off chance that it might draw Lecter out."  
  
"Then you think of something better." Clarice said, frustrated.  
  
Will shook his head and sighed. They watched as a small, wiry woman with raven black hair approached them. "Agent Starling? Agent Graham?" She asked. "Have you seen Agent Mitchell? Channel 5 news is pestering us for an update."  
  
Clarice looked at her. "Kendra's left for the day, Agent Riley," she said. "So I guess that means I'm in charge since it was my case to begin with." She paused and shook her head dismally. "Tell them no more interviews."  
  
The other agent nodded and turned to walk away.  
  
"Wait," Clarice lightly touched her arm, stopping her. "You know what? Instead, call a news conference for half an hour from now okay?"  
  
Agent Riley nodded again and walked away.  
  
Will looked at Clarice. "What are you going to say?"  
  
Clarice shrugged. "That the agent who initially broke the story was given false information and over-reacted instead of verifying it," Clarice sighed. "It's worth a try, right? Maybe things will calm down in a couple of days and we can get back to work."  
  
"You think that's a wise idea? I don't think the higher ups will be happy with this, it makes the Bureau look incompetent."  
  
"Well it is," Clarice smiled. "At least bureaucratically it is. Besides, I'm quitting when this is over anyway so what are they going to do? Fire me? Please, do me a favor." She ran a hand through her hair, drained the cup, and threw it in the small wastebasket next to the cooler.  
  
Will chuckled slightly. "Alright, Agent Starling, you're the boss." He leaned closer so that only she could hear his next statement. "But I told you we should've just stayed in bed today." He smiled, bent down and plucked his badge from off the floor.  
After the press conference, Clarice and Will drove to the hospital to interview Zachary. They walked through the whitewashed halls of the hospital permeated with the scents of vomit, blood, and disinfectant until they found the post surgery recovery rooms. After identifying themselves at the nurses' station, they were directed down the hallway to their left and given Zachary's room number. As they neared his room, they found a very young agent on duty, sitting upright in an uncomfortable folding chair, engrossed in a newspaper. He looked like he was about twelve, Clarice mused. He must have heard their approach for he placed his newspaper on the floor and rose to greet them, his face brightening.  
  
"Agent Starling, Agent Graham, I presume?" They nodded and the agent held out his right hand and shook each of theirs in turn. "I'm Agent Bill Porter. It is such a pleasure to meet the two of you."  
  
"Thank you, Agent Porter," Clarice smiled. "Has anyone else attempted to approach the room or have you seen anything out of the ordinary or anyone suspicious during your shift?" Clarice asked.  
  
He shook his head. "No ma'am. Other than doctors and nurses, it's been awfully quiet around here."  
  
"And all the doctors and nurses have had appropriate identification badges." Will asked.  
  
"Yes sir. And no, none of them had the general appearance of Dr. Hannibal Lecter," Agent Porter replied, anticipating the next question. He smiled at them, eager to please.  
  
"Okay," Clarice nodded. "Thank you, Agent Porter."  
  
"No problem," he replied and sat back down, picking up his paper.  
  
Clarice and Will stepped into the darkened hospital room. The blinds were drawn and closed. Zachary appeared to be sleeping. There was an IV line running into his left arm and his right was handcuffed to the bed railing. His chest was bare and there were bandages over his right shoulder, his left side, and his stomach from the gunshots. His face looked pale and drawn, as if he were already dead, despite the fact that he was listed in stable condition by the hospital. The blood pressure monitor hummed to life as it began its cycle again.  
  
Clarice moved to the bed, placed a hand on his shoulder, and shook him gently. Will went to the window and pulled up the blinds. The day had become overcast and dim light filled the room, casting an eerie glow on the walls. He looked out and saw storm clouds threatening although no rain was falling just yet.  
  
"Zachary," Clarice said softly as she gently shook him. "Zach."  
  
He stirred under her persistent shaking. His eyes fluttered open and he focused on her blurrily. "Agent Starling," he mumbled dreamily and smiled. "I'm touched that you care enough to visit."  
  
"Zachary," Clarice said slowly, "I know that you're on a lot of drugs right now so you're a little out of it but I need to ask you a few questions."  
  
He continued to smile dopily. "And I have a question for you too, Clarice," he slurred. "Now I know that you have a thing for Dr. Lecter.."  
  
"Zach," Clarice stated. "You can call me Agent Starling."  
  
"...but he's like way too old for you. I mean just between you and me," his voice lowered to a whisper, "I don't know if he can even get it up anymore," he said secretively.  
  
"Zach that is inappropriate," Clarice began.  
  
"But me on the other hand," he interrupted. "I'm young. I could fuck you all night long. Will you let me?"  
  
"Ugh," Clarice said disgustedly and shook her head.  
  
Will, who had been watching the exchange from his place at the window, came forward and put his hand under the boy's chin. He gripped it tightly and turned his head to look at him.  
  
"Shit," Zachary yelped quietly.  
  
"Enough of this crap you pathetic moron," Will said. He was mere inches from Zachary's face. "Where the hell is he?" He let go of his chin and straightened up.  
  
Zachary's eyes rolled over to Clarice. "You had to bring the party pooper, huh? You and I should really spend some time alone together," he grinned.  
  
"Zachary," Clarice said evenly. "Do you have any idea where Dr. Lecter may be?"  
  
He laughed snorting. "Baby, you're never gonna find him, he's always two steps ahead. I mean, come on, you've been chasing him for years and you couldn't even find him when he was right under your nose."  
  
"You mean when he spied on her?" Will asked.  
  
Zachary turned his blurry eyes to Will and sneered. "No, when he 'observed' her."  
  
"How often has he done that?" Will asked, ignoring the boy's insolent tone.  
  
Thanks in part to the heavy pain medication and in part to his desire to impress Clarice, Zachary's tongue wagged freely. "At first it was only about two to three times a week. But then for the last year, it's been nearly every night. He's obsessed. But I don't blame him." He gazed back at Clarice, his eyes moving hungrily over her breasts. "You're gorgeous you know," he whispered.  
  
Will snapped his fingers in front of Zachary's eyes. "Hey lover boy, back over here."  
  
Zachary's eyes swung lazily back to Will. "And you're in deep shit you know."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"Because you've got to be the FBI agent that H is making his plans for."  
  
Clarice and Will exchanged a frightened look.  
  
"What plans, Zachary," Clarice asked.  
  
Zachary's demeanor dropped and he closed his eyes. "I don't know," he whispered.  
  
"Don't bullshit us Zach," Will said evenly.  
  
"I'm not," he whispered hoarsely. He turned his gaze to Clarice and she saw hurt burning within them. "He wouldn't share his plans with me, he wouldn't include me. Please, you must believe me," he beseeched her. "He doesn't trust me."  
  
"He told you he had plans though?" Clarice asked.  
  
"All he said was that he was planning on making an FBI agent disappear," Zachary's eyes rolled back to Will. "I can only assume it's you."  
  
Will nodded. "Do you have any idea where he might be or where he might go Zachary?"  
  
"No," he said flatly. "Like I said, he didn't tell me his plans and we never discussed the possibility of capture or what he might do."  
  
Clarice looked at Will and he returned her gaze. He shrugged, sighed, and walked to the window. Clarice sat on the edge of Zachary's bed and looked squarely at him although she was careful not to touch him.  
  
"Zachary," she said quietly. "If there's anything you can think of to help us find him, we really need to know."  
  
"I told you I don't know anything," he said quietly. "He's crazy you know. He forced me to kill those men." He paused before continuing on quickly. "I didn't want to do it but he made me. He said he would punish me if I didn't."  
  
"You know what," Clarice said. "I don't need to hear that. That's for you and the prosecuting attorney to discuss." She stood up. "Listen, if you can think of anything at all that might be significant to catching Dr. Lecter, please let us know alright?" Zachary nodded dully. "Well Zachary, I guess this is goodbye."  
  
He smiled wanly. "At least until I get out of here."  
  
"When you get out of here, you're going to jail," she said.  
  
"We'll see," he slurred and closed his eyes.  
  
The partners quietly departed the room, thanked Agent Porter once more, and made their way out of the hospital to the parking garage. Silence loomed between them ominously and heavy, like the rain clouds in the sky. A slight breeze lifted their hair as they walked to the car.  
  
"Little punk," Will replied. "He's gonna try and get out of doing time by saying he was coerced."  
  
Clarice nodded absently but said nothing.  
  
Will sighed. "So what's our course of action now," he asked.  
  
She considered for a moment. "Let's get back to the office and see if any of the airports, train stations, or ports have called in any possible sightings."  
  
He nodded solemnly and they headed for the car.  
To be continued. Please review.  
  
Kurt: LOL! Actually though, I think the diehard/crazy H/C fans quit reading this fic eons ago! And I'm glad the smut was as you put it, 'very nice', since this was my first real attempts at fic smut! LOL! Hey thanks for your continued support in reading and reviewing.  
  
LoT: Well of course, "I love you too!" Methinks you're right about the GD wanting to castrate Will (at the very least!) but we'll just have to wait and see what mischief transpires! And yes, Clarice would be none too thrilled with the GD if he did that! Thank you so much for your great reviews.  
  
duckie: Ah yes, GUTB and their flaming reviews. Glad to know I'm not the only one who received one! GUTB's review was terrible, you should read it. But enough about them. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter!  
  
Star: LOL, I hope I did not take too long to update and you passed on!! Thanks so much for your great review, I really appreciate it and I'm glad you like the story.  
  
Hanni85: Well, you'll just have to keep reading to see what the GD has in store for the lovers! But Will will (LOL) be in the story for a bit longer at least. Thank you for reading and reviewing.  
  
Nan: LOL to your 'Holy Hot Tamales' comment!! Yes, I agree, it was tough to see the GD hurt twice in one night but that makes for all the more angst! Thank you so much for your comments. And you'll have to wait and see what is in store! Thanks again.  
  
Zechs Merquise: Thank you for your wonderful review. I'm so glad that you like the story. And yes, reader torture is one of the best parts about writing fics! LOL! Thank you again.  
  
Shattered: LOL! As far as you being sick and twisted, you're about as sick and twisted as I am it seems! I hope this installment gave you a bit of a fix, my junkie! As always, thank you so much for reading and your awesome reviews!!  
  
LittleMy: You've learned!! Nope, I will not tell you what's coming next, you have to keep reading! Thank you for your review. 


	16. Chapter 16: Father and Son, Father and ...

Author's Note: Thank you so much to Kurt for the 'father' idea and of course thank you to MC. Also, the next few chapters will probably be a bit more sporadic I am in the midst of a school term coming to an end and that means wrapping everything up, lots of reading, writing papers, and studying for finals. But fear not, I'm not abandoning this fic, I'm just way too busy!!  
  
Chapter 16: Father and Son, Father and Daughter  
  
Over the course of the next three days, Clarice Starling and Will Graham remained busy following up on sighting reports provided by a panicky public at the mention of Hannibal Lecter's residence being in the United States however none of them provided any positive leads. After work, because of the possible threat to their safety from Dr. Lecter and for their own piece of mind, they would leave separately in cars driven by other agents and the vehicles would be switched three to four times along different routes before they were dropped off at whatever hotel they were staying at for the night. Their drivers remained alert to any suspicious activities and watched carefully for anyone appearing to follow them, but thus far there had been no incidents of trouble. Will's and Clarice's personal vehicles remained in the FBI parking lot under tight security.  
  
While at work they maintained professional distance from one another so that their intimate relationship would not be discovered and scrutinized. The fact that they both stayed at the same hotel every night was not questioned, it was simply assumed they would be safer together, even if there was a wall between them. But as soon as the other agents had seen them safely to their rooms and the doors closed behind them, Will and Clarice melded into each other, shutting out the fear, shutting out the anxiety, shutting out the stress of the day, making love for hours.  
  
Often in the dead of night one of them would wake from a frightful dream, gasping, drenched in sweat, a scream dying on their lips. The difference was that now there was a warm body lying next to them to hold them as they shook and wept. And the person next to them held them not merely because of the bad dream but because their dreams were haunted by the same specter and they understood.  
  
Will's prediction that Clarice's statements to the press would be less than enthusiastically embraced by the managerial bureaucracy was correct. On the same afternoon after her press conference, Clarice Starling received a phone call from the FBI's executive assistant director, Karl Wegener, requesting her presence in his office at her convenience. Clarice replied that since she was in the middle of a heavy investigation, 'at her convenience' probably would not happen for quite some time. Assistant Director Wegener chuckled, saying he understood, and proceeded to informally question Clarice as to the events regarding both hers and Kendra Mitchell's press conferences. Clarice was truthful about the entire matter, even detailing the conversation she had observed between Agent Graham and Agent Mitchell. The Assistant Director Wegener did not seem overly surprised by the information. He thanked her for her time and cooperation and told Clarice he would be in touch again soon.  
  
The initial media frenzy over the whereabouts of Dr. Hannibal Lecter initially died down as a result of Clarice's press conference however random speculation as to his actual whereabouts still took place. By the afternoon of the third day after the press conference, Friday, the "Lecter sightings" had dwindled to only twenty five for the day with the public gradually returning to its false sense of security that surely he was out of the country.  
  
On Friday, another rain storm struck D.C., making the day gloomy. Will Graham sat in his chair at Clarice's desk head bent studiously over three pages of fax paper, going over the latest three sighting reports. He scanned them, not really seeing them, listening to the rain patter against the window. He closed and rubbed his tired eyes. It had been a long, arduous week and his and Clarice's late nights together were beginning to catch up with him. He smiled as his mind's eye saw her lying naked on the bed, red hair glinting in the candle light. In his mind his eyes roamed over the swell of her breasts to the curve of her hips and down her long legs. He saw her beckon to him with her right forefinger.  
  
The opening door interrupted his reverie and Clarice herself walked in carrying a steaming cup of coffee. Will eyed her luscious legs and thought how delicious it felt to be in between them. She sat down at her desk, rubbed her cold hands together and blew warm air into them in attempts to warm them up. She pushed an errant strand of hair out of her face, looked at Will, and grinned at the look he was giving her.  
  
"What?" she chuckled.  
  
"I was just thinking dirty thoughts about you," he said lasciviously.  
  
Her eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Oh really? Well later tonight you'll just have to show me what you've been thinking about."  
  
"Absolutely," he grinned.  
  
Clarice took a sip of coffee and glanced at the fax papers. "Anything interesting there?" she gestured toward them with her chin.  
  
"Not really," he shook his head. "One is the same exact report of one we received yesterday in Montana. One is from an individual at a rave in New York City. And one is from the Oregon coast."  
  
"A rave," she asked incredulous. "Could you just picture Dr. Lecter at a rave?" She grinned and began clacking on her keyboard checking her email.  
  
Will laughed at the image of the Good Doctor grooving with a bunch of wasted young people in tacky clothes. He glanced at the reports again and his eyes lingered on the one from Oregon. His thoughts instantly turned to his son Josh who was living with Molly at her parents' home on the Oregon coast. They owned a ranch nestled in the rolling ever green hills of Astoria. When Josh had been a boy they had owned a horse named Lightning that he had pined for whenever he was not in Oregon. Will smiled as he recalled the time the horse had followed Josh around the ranch like a puppy dog after he had slipped the animal a few sugar cubes. Will remembered the vacations they had all spent there and how happy that time in their lives had been. Undoubtedly the ranch had been a good place for Josh to have grown up and Will wondered if perhaps Lightning was still alive. He just wished he could have been a part of it.  
  
He shook his head and forced his thoughts back to the present and to the problems at hand. He read the Oregon sighting report in depth and noticed that it was from Warrenton which was just a few miles west of Astoria. It had been called in to the local sheriff station yesterday morning and had been forwarded to the field office in Portland. The caller reported that they had seen the individual in question exiting the passenger side of a truck at a truck stop in Warrenton. The man was elderly, Caucasian, in his mid-sixties, balding, maybe standing five feet nine inches tall, with a broad upper body. He had been wearing jeans, a red plaid shirt, and a University of Oregon baseball hat, hardly the clothing of choice of the doctor.  
  
The problem was, mused Will, that Lecter's general description could fit any number of men just in the United States alone, Oregon was on the other side of the country, and drifters were hardly unheard of along the Pacific coast. Will sighed. The idea that Dr. Lecter might actually go after his son had not even occurred to him. Then he shook his head. There was no way Dr. Lecter would take a risk like that given the fact that his face had been all over the news this week.  
  
'Still,' he thought, 'maybe I should just give Josh and Molly a call.'  
  
He leaned over and reached out to pluck the telephone receiver from its cradle. As he did, it buzzed and he drew his hand back, startled.  
  
Clarice glanced up from her monitor, brow furrowed. "Isn't it eerie when that happens?"  
  
Will nodded absently and picked up the phone. "Graham."  
  
"Agent Graham this is Agent Mitchell. I need to meet with you. I want to discuss the tape."  
  
Kendra Mitchell had been noticeably absent for the remainder of the week and now Will noticed that she was speaking in short, quipped sentences, as if she were nervous. "Sure, Kendra, are you in your office now?"  
  
"No, I do not want to discuss this in the building," she replied curtly.  
  
Will sighed and looked out at the falling rain. He did not feel much like venturing out in it. "Where then?"  
  
"Meet me at the National Aquarium just inside the entrance."  
  
"When," he asked dismally.  
  
"As soon as you can."  
  
Will sighed again. "Alright, I'll be there within the half hour." He hung up the phone and stood up, pulling his suit coat off the back of the chair and putting it on. He strode to the coat rack, pulled his black trench coat off and shrugged into it.  
  
Clarice glanced up from her monitor again. "Where are you off to?"  
  
"Kendra wants to meet with me regarding the tape I don't really have. But she wants me to meet her at the National Aquarium."  
  
Clarice's brow furrowed. "The Aquarium? Why there?"  
  
"I don't know," Will shrugged. "Maybe she thinks the walls here have ears or some other such nonsense." He paused and looked at her. "Hey, I know it isn't too close to quitting time but how about when I get back we call it a day?"  
  
Clarice stretched her arms up above her head and yawned. "Actually I was thinking of calling it quits when I'm done going through these emails."  
  
"Sounds good," Will smiled. "Meet you back at the hotel then?"  
  
Clarice nodded, leaned back in her chair and eyed him amusedly. "You know what the only thing I want to do this weekend is?"  
  
Will cocked one eyebrow. "What's that?"  
  
"Just stay in bed and fuck."  
  
"God you know I love it when you talk like that, Agent Starling," Will smiled again and walked to the door. "I had the exact same plans."  
  
"Two great minds think alike," Clarice beamed. "But don't take too long with Kendra. I'll be waiting naked in bed for you Agent Graham," she purred.  
  
Will's grin increased. "Don't worry. With an incentive like that, I won't be long." He turned the handle, walked through the door, and closed it behind him.  
  
Clarice smiled contentedly to herself as she watched him weave his way through the department to the elevators. She continued to watch until the doors slipped closed, shutting him off from view. She turned back to her keyboard and resumed responding to emails.  
  
The phone buzzed again a moment later. She picked it up distractedly. "Starling."  
  
"Agent Starling," replied a woman's voice shakily. "I was told I could reach Will Graham at this number. Is he available?"  
  
"I'm sorry but he's just stepped out of the office," Clarice continued clacking on her keyboard. "Is there something I can help you with?"  
  
"No," the woman sounded near tears. "Listen, do you know of a way I could get a hold of him right now? This is an emergency."  
  
Clarice stopped typing and gave the phone call her entire attention. "I'm sorry but no. I'm his partner and I'd be happy to help you in any way I can. At the very least I can certainly take a message and give it to him as soon as he returns."  
  
The woman on the other end sighed heavily. "Alright," she said finally. "Please tell him that Molly, his ex-wife, called." She paused and Clarice felt a twang of jealousy jolt through her. "I need him to call me as soon as possible. His son is missing."  
Will Graham parked his silver 1995 Toyota 4-Runner in a parking space in the parking garage adjacent to the Ronald Reagan building across the street from the National Aquarium. He exited the structure and bounded across 14th street in the steady rain. He made his way passed the brightly colored sign that proclaimed the Aquarium, hurried up the entrance ramp, and stopped just inside. He shook his head slightly and rain water splattered to the floor. He glanced around and spied Kendra Mitchell leaning against the wall opposite the ticket booths. He noted that she was wearing a black scarf over her blonde hair and despite the gloomy day, a large pair of black sunglasses. In her hand she clutched a folded black umbrella. She glanced up, saw him, and strode over.  
  
'She certainly is acting oddly,' Will mused. "Alright, Kendra, all I need to know is if you're leaving Behavioral Science. The week is up," he said quietly once she reached him.  
  
"Let's talk about this outside," she said quickly, glancing around.  
  
"Cut the bullshit," he hissed. "Are you leaving Behavioral Science? Yes or no?"  
  
Kendra shook her head. "Not in here. There are a lot more people here than I thought there would be on a rainy day." She strode toward the entrance and walked through the door, opening her umbrella as she went.  
  
"Dammit, Kendra," he said loudly but followed her outside. "You really think anyone here gives a shit what we're talking about?"  
  
Kendra strode to the sidewalk, turned left and walked briskly past a clump of bushes outside the building. Will walked to the sidewalk, paused, and angrily shrugged his shoulders. He was pissed off that she was playing games with him like this. And to make his mood worse, he was now getting drenched.  
  
"Kendra," he called after her, shielding his face from the rain. She stopped and turned back to look at him. "Either you speak your piece now or I go get in my car and drive straight over to the D.A.'s office."  
  
In an instant, two strong arms wrapped around Will just under his arms and pulled him down backwards. A hand clamped a cloth over his mouth and nose as he was dragged backward into the bushes.  
  
"Just like old times, eh Will?" a voice hissed in his ear.  
  
That phrase spoken by that voice echoed in his memory, heard once so many years ago, now heard only in his dreams, and he panicked. As he struggled against the tight grip, he inhaled the sweet scent that permeated the cloth and his throat began to burn.  
  
'Chloroform,' Will's mind registered before his vision swam and then went black.  
  
Kendra Mitchell turned and began her brisk pace back up the sidewalk.  
Clarice Starling hung up the phone from speaking with special agent Candace Larsen of the Portland, Oregon FBI field office. She had called the Portland office the moment she had hung up the phone with Molly Graham. According to her, the Astoria Police Department was treating Josh Graham's disappearance as a runaway situation but after speaking with Molly and given the fact that there had been a Dr. Lecter sighting mere miles from their home, Clarice had called the Violent Crimes division, which investigates kidnappings, in the Portland office to ask for their assistance. Agent Larsen had answered the phone call and once Clarice had explained to her who Joshua Graham's father was and what case he was working on, she had been more than willing to speak with the chief of police in Astoria and then to get in touch with Molly Graham herself.  
  
Clarice stared out her office window at the falling rain and thought about her conversation with Molly. She had said that the police department's theory of Josh having run away did not fit the boy's disposition in the slightest. Joshua Graham was a happy, healthy, vibrant, well adjusted 17 year old high school senior. Well at least he was as well adjusted as a young person could be who had had a shard of glass held to his face as a young boy by a serial killer while his own father had hurled insults at him in an attempt to throw off the killer's concentration. His grades in school were good. He was the starting point guard for his high school basketball team just like his father had been. He was the opinion editor of the school paper. He was popular and well liked, with many friends. He had been accepted to UCLA next fall on a basketball scholarship. And he had a beautiful cheerleader girlfriend. All in all, his life was going very well and running away did not make much sense.  
  
Clarice had carefully asked Molly if over the last few weeks he had become quiet and withdrawn or had acted strangely in any way, thinking that drugs might have become a factor. Molly had answered that no, he had behaved normally as of late and that the Astoria police had already asked her that same question. Molly had been near tears during the entire conversation but had held them back somehow. Clarice could only imagine the anxiety the other woman was feeling right now, not knowing where her child was. Clarice had then told Molly that she would contact the Portland, Oregon field office and request their assistance on the case. Molly had been overjoyed and had thanked Clarice profusely, who had become embarrassed and had attempted to get off the phone quickly. Then suddenly and quietly Molly had asked about Will. She had asked how and why he had come back to the FBI and how long he had been clean. Clarice had sighed softly, put her head in her free hand, and shook it slowly, eyes closed. She had finally told Molly that those were questions better poised to Will himself. Molly had agreed, thanked her profusely again for her help and they had hung up with Clarice promising to have Will call her the moment he returned.  
  
Clarice sighed again now and chewed absently on the end of her pen as she watched the rain fall. Apparently Molly had not bothered to change her last name back to her maiden name after the divorce. Clarice pursed her lips in contemplation.  
  
'Maybe it's just easier that way,' she mused and frowned.  
  
The pang of jealousy that she had felt earlier had slowly worked its way into full blown insecurity and she hated herself for it. She knew how Will felt about her, after all how many times a night did he whisper his feelings to her. Still, there was something daunting about facing an ex- wife. After all, Molly and Will had once built a life together, they had shared memories together, and they had a child together. Clarice knew that she and Will had none of that together. And she knew how much Will had loved her and how it had nearly killed him when Molly had left and taken Josh.  
  
She rubbed her tired eyes and decided to call it a day. She had done all she could do at this point. She wished that Will had not gone to meet Kendra. Suddenly, Clarice felt helpless. She was helpless to change the situation and helpless to get in touch with Will to tell him about his son. She contemplated driving to the Aquarium to see if she could find him. She glanced at the clock, it was almost 3 pm. Will had left nearly an hour ago and he had said he would not be long. He was probably on his way back right now. Still, Clarice wished she could get in contact with him.  
  
'Dammit,' she thought. 'Why can't he buy a cell phone and join the rest of us here in the 21st century?'  
  
But Will adamantly detested cell phones. He hated the idea of being tethered to a phone and available twenty four hours a day. Clarice shook her head and yawned. She was tired and it was time to go. She called Seth Williams and asked him to meet her in the parking lot. Seth had volunteered earlier in the week to be Clarice's escort, much to her appreciation. It gave the two of them a chance to reconnect as friends and besides Will and Ardelia, Seth had become the only other person she felt she could confide in. The evening rides had become a time that both agents looked forward to and were usually full of laughter, but not tonight.  
  
Half an hour later, after having switched to their fourth and final car and on the last leg of the drive to the latest hotel, Clarice sat back in the passenger seat, her right elbow leaning on the doorframe, fingers rubbing her right temple. She could feel a monster headache brewing. The ride had been relatively quiet and Seth could tell there was something bothering her, but he knew better than to pester her. If she wanted him to know, she would tell him. Clarice yawned and glanced sideways at Seth.  
  
"Did Agent Vega say if Will had called or come in when you left?" She asked, speaking of Will's driver for the week.  
  
"He didn't say," Seth shook his head and looked over at her for a moment. "Why?"  
  
"There's a matter that requires his immediate attention," she paused. "His son has gone missing."  
  
Seth glanced at her again before looking back at the road. "Really? Runaway?"  
  
Clarice shrugged and watched the buildings outside roll by. "Hopefully," was all she said.  
  
"Why hopefully?" Seth's brow furrowed in puzzlement.  
  
"Because there was a Lecter sighting near his home a couple of days ago," she said quietly.  
  
"You don't think Lecter would be that careless do you? To snatch Will's kid in the same week that his picture and name have been all over the news?" Seth asked incredulous.  
  
Clarice just shrugged and continued to stare out the window, listening to the windshield wipers moved hypnotically.  
  
Seth looked at her and then looked back to the road. "But why would he stay in the country? Why would he nab Will's son?"  
  
"Revenge," she whispered.  
  
"Against Will?" Seth was puzzled.  
  
"Possibly," Clarice closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.  
  
Seth turned the car into the hotel parking lot, found a parking space, put the transmission in park, and turned to face Clarice. "Okay, stop speaking in one word sentences," he said quietly. "There's something you're not telling me."  
  
Clarice opened her eyes but could not look at him. She stared out the window toward the hotel pool, watching the rain bounce off the surface. They were both silent for a time, listening to the rain pound against the roof, the tick of the engine as it cooled, and the traffic whizzing by on the highway. Seth watched her but did not press her to speak.  
  
"Will and I are sleeping together," she finally said, still unable to meet his gaze.  
  
Seth inhaled sharply but said nothing. He turned his head and watched the rain run down the windshield. "How long," he asked finally.  
  
"Just a few days."  
  
"And Dr. Lecter knows."  
  
It was a statement, not a question but Clarice nodded anyway. The silence resumed for a moment, both agents lost in thought.  
  
"It just happened," Clarice said quietly in defense.  
  
Seth turned back to her. "Clarice, I'm not judging you," he said simply. "Besides I know you and with you sex doesn't just happen. You don't just hop into bed with anyone. It's probably something you'd been thinking about for awhile."  
  
Clarice nodded and a single tear slipped down her cheek. She was relieved that he understood for she had fervently hoped that he would. She glanced down at her clasped hands in her lap and he put his hand over both of hers.  
  
"To be honest I'm not all that surprised about you and Will."  
  
Clarice looked up at him. "Why?"  
  
"From everything I'd heard about him before he became your partner, he just sounded so much like you. Then after you first met him you told me yourself that he reminded you of you," Seth grinned. "And now that I've met him and spent time with him, I can see it for myself. The two of you seem to just fit together, I can't explain it. You're both so similar that sometimes it's scary."  
  
Clarice managed a small smile. She'd had those same thoughts herself.  
  
"But now you're afraid that your relationship with Will has caused his son to become a victim," Seth finished and gripped her hands tightly.  
  
Clarice closed her eyes and nodded. Seth always seemed to be able to put into words what she was thinking. "This is all my fault. It is because of Dr. Lecter's obsession with me. I will never forgive myself if anything happens to Josh," her voice was husky with choked tears. "And I know that Will won't be able to forgive me either."  
  
"First of all," Seth said gently, "you don't know for sure what has happened to his son. Secondly, Will's reaction is up to him and I can't imagine he would blame you for this. After all, last time I checked, it takes two to tango and I think he would blame himself before you."  
  
Clarice nodded again and opened her eyes. "You're probably right. What I need to do right now is go get checked in and wait for Will to show up. I need to be strong for him now. I have a feeling it's going to be a very long night."  
Clarice was correct, it did indeed turn out to be a very long night but not because of the reason she initially thought it would be. For four hours after Seth saw her to her room, Clarice paced, bit her nails, flipped through the TV channels not really watching, phoned Will's home number, phoned the office to see if he had called or come in, and just plain fretted.  
  
Now she lay down on the bed. She was utterly exhausted but she knew that sleep would not come. She closed her eyes and willed her mind to think of anything other than obsessing over Will's whereabouts. Her thoughts turned to the conversation they had had last night. It had been late. They had been in bed and they had talked for an hour after making love about everything and nothing, it did not matter what. Then Will had given her a goodnight kiss and rolled over onto his stomach. Clarice had lain wide eyed and watched the shadows on the ceiling, contemplative. She had known that Will was dozing, she heard his breathing deepen. She had decided she needed to talk with him.  
  
"Will," she had whispered into the dark.  
  
He had stirred at the sound of her voice but did not open his eyes. "Hmm?" He had replied sleepily.  
  
"Don't leave me okay?" She had said quietly.  
  
He had rolled over on his side to face her and opened his eyes. "Baby, I'm not going anywhere," he paused and stroked the hair away from her face. "What brought this on?"  
  
Clarice had turned her head to look at him and reached up to absently stroke the stubble that had begun on his cheeks. "It's just that besides you I've only ever put my trust in two other men and both of them left me in their own way. I trusted them completely, I was vulnerable around them completely, I opened up to them completely, I shared a strong connection with them completely, and they left me. Now if it's possible, I feel an even stronger connection with you than I did with either of them and I'm scared. My father left me...Dr. Lecter left me...I could not bear it if you left me too."  
  
As she had talked, tears had begun to streak from her eyes to the pillow below. Will had taken her in his arms and held her tightly, whispering her name over and over again in comfort.  
  
"Clarice, oh Clarice, it's alright."  
  
She had cried freely and unabashedly for some time. When she had finished he had kissed away her tears and made love to her so tenderly that she had felt whole and complete and safe, both of them whispering how much they cared for the other. Afterward, exhausted, they had slept entangled in each other's arms and they had both slept soundly that night with no demons running through their dreams.  
  
Years ago Clarice Starling had come to realize that she had major issues stemming from the death of her father that she had not even begun to explore or work through. She attributed her general attraction to older men to the fact that she had lost her father at such a young age. The two of them had been so close, he had been her whole world, she had absolutely adored him and he had been taken from her. She supposed she looked to other men to help fill the void left by her father's murder, attempting to reclaim the closeness with him that had been stolen from her. Now, with Will, she felt as if the hole that had been inside her since she was ten was finally beginning to close.  
  
'I miss you so much Daddy,' she thought. 'But I'm finally happy again.'  
  
Yes she was happy again. But she had come to care so intensely for Will in such a relatively short period of time and the intensity of her feelings scared her immensely. Now she attempted to push the words from her mind that hovered just under her subconscious, for to admit them to herself would be to open up to the possibility of being hurt again and she had worked her entire adult life to protect herself from that possibility. But stubbornly, the words would not go.  
  
"Dear God," she whispered, opening her eyes and staring at the ceiling, "I'm falling in love with him."  
  
That explained her lighter-than-air feelings, that explained her concerns for his well being before her own, that explained her ever growing desire to just be around him, and that explained her intense feelings of insecurity over Molly Graham's phone call.  
  
Clarice knew that Will had his own insecurities as well regarding her feelings for Dr. Lecter, especially after last night when she had talked of him having left her. Will had not pressed her for details about how exactly Clarice felt that Dr. Lecter had left her, but she could tell that the mention of his name had bothered Will. A few weeks ago, she had told him her true feelings for the doctor, feelings that she had barely even admitted to herself, and he had understood them. But now that they had become lovers, Clarice knew that Will held some reservations that perhaps one day Dr. Lecter would come along and steal her heart away although she knew that could never happen. Clarice decided that she would be sure and clear the air regarding Dr. Lecter with Will once the present crisis had been solved.  
  
'The present crisis,' she thought and her mind returned to the problem at hand.  
  
Clarice glanced at her watch with weary eyes. It was just after 7:30pm. Will had been gone far too long for a simple meeting. She swallowed heavily and sat up. She had to do something, just sitting here was killing her. She picked up the phone and dialed Ardelia's number. When 'Delia answered, Clarice was nearing panic.  
  
"Claire," 'Delia asked, concerned. "What's wrong? What happened?"  
  
"Will hasn't shown up yet. I'm worried sick."  
  
"Alright," she replied calmly. "Sit tight. Seth and I will be right there."  
  
Fifteen minutes later, they were speeding toward downtown D.C., silence abounding within the car. Clarice sat in back, chewing on her nails, staring out her window and watching the rain. Ardelia turned around to watch her friend but said nothing. She could only imagine the thoughts that were running through her best friend's mind.  
  
They drove around the block that housed the Aquarium first but detected nothing out of the ordinary. The building was dark and deserted, well after regular business hours. Seth turned into the parking lot of the Ronald Reagan building and drove slowly, all three agents scanning the area for Will's car. On the third level, Clarice spied it.  
  
"Look! Right there!" She exclaimed, leaning over the front seat and pointing.  
  
Seth nodded and drove in that direction but had to stop as a Cadillac Seville driven by an old woman pulled slowly out from her parking space. Clarice groaned in frustration and could wait no longer. She bounded from the car and raced toward the 4-Runner.  
  
"Clarice," Ardelia called after her.  
  
Clarice reached the vehicle and peered through the tinted rear windows. She saw nothing. She looked into the front seat, empty. Then she spied the piece of paper on the windshield, tucked under one of the wipers. She pulled it out carefully as Seth and 'Delia walked up behind her. When she opened it, she instantly recognized Dr. Lecter's neat scrawl and her heart dropped. There was one simple line.  
  
"Tag, you're it, Clarice."  
To be continued. Please review!  
  
guber: Thank you so much for your kind review. I'm so happy to know you are enjoying the story. And no, you'll just have to wait until the end to find out who (if anyone) Clarice ends up with! Thanks again.  
  
ducki: LOL, yes, they are getting cozy! Thank you for reading and reviewing.  
  
ar-men66: Oh thank you so much for your kind words. Don't worry, I will not stop this story, I will keep writing until it's done! I'm having too much fun with it to stop! Thanks again for reviewing.  
  
DevilsQT: Aww, don't die on me!! Thank you for reading and reviewing. It's great that you are enjoying the story so much. Yes, I think we all know a good psychiatrist to help you if needed!  
  
Kurt: Yes, Zachary was a bit rude, he's certainly not as cultured as his mentor is he? As always, thanks for reading and reviewing.  
  
Shattered: Well my Price of Infamy junkie, I'm glad that you are sticking around despite the absence of H/C mush! LOL, yeah, horny teenage boys are irritating as hell! I will do my best to see to it that you get your regular fix although if you read my author's note at the beginning, there may be some lapses. But I will not let you go through withdrawl, don't worry!! LOL! Thanks for reviewing and see you next time around.  
  
LoT: With regards to Zachary, let me quote the GD from RD, "we must not judge him too harshly." LOL! But I'll let you in on a secret: I'm setting the stage for the sequel a bit here and there. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. Thanks for reading and reviewing.  
  
Nan: Yep, they are in even more trouble now! Thank you for your wonderful review, you're always so kind. See you next time. 


	17. Chapter 17: The Betrayal and Crucifixio...

Chapter 17: The Betrayal and Crucifixion of Saviors  
  
At the same time that Clarice Starling was reading the note from Hannibal Lecter, Kendra Mitchell sat behind her desk, head in her hands, waiting for the telephone to ring and to be questioned as to the last time she had seen Will Graham. Surely Clarice had found his car by now and Kendra knew she would be the first to be questioned. She would simply tell them that she had met with Agent Graham, they had both left the Aquarium in different directions, and that was the last she had seen him. Anything could have happened to him once he left her sight.  
  
This was the first time Kendra had stepped foot into the FBI building since Tuesday. She stared, unseeing, down at the day planner on her desk, lost in thought. For the first time in her professional career, Kendra Mitchell was second guessing her actions. To save her own hide, to protect the illustrious career that she had worked so hard to attain and had sacrificed so much for, she had sold out a fellow federal agent to a serial killer.  
  
"How did things get this far?" she asked her office bleakly.  
  
The events of the last week had blurred together badly and she forced her anguished mind to work through them to try and figure out how things had come to this. Tuesday had been the day that Will Graham had given her the ultimatum. Kendra had never responded well to ultimatums, especially from people under her command. The unusual problem with this ultimatum was that she had been unsure as to whether he'd actually had the damning evidence he said he did. That had infuriated her. She had never been put in a position like that before. She had never been confronted by someone willing to stand up to her because they had little or nothing to lose.  
  
She had gone home for the day after her conversation with Graham and worked out at her punching bag in her exercise room. She had worked out to the point of exhaustion while she had mulled over his words in her mind, looking for a way out. She had finally collapsed in a rumpled heap on the floor and lied there, too tired to move. In the early evening she had finally dragged herself to the bathroom and taken a hot bath to relieve her aching muscles. Unfortunately, the strenuous work out had not helped her mind solve her dilemma and she had begun to sink into depression. After a time, Kendra had managed to drag herself out of the tub and into a robe. She had limped gingerly to the kitchen, pulled a bottle of Jack Daniel's out of the cupboard and collapsed on the couch in the living room, with the bottle clutched in her hand. She had laid there staring at an infomercial, not seeing, taking swigs off the bottle here and there.  
  
Two hours later, the ringing phone had startled her out of her intoxicated lethargy and her arm felt like lead as she had reached out shakily to grab the receiver.  
  
"Hello?" Kendra had asked.  
  
"Is this Agent Kendra Mitchell?" A polite, refined gentleman's voice had asked softly.  
  
"Yes, who is this?" She had asked suspiciously.  
  
"This is someone who can give you what you want most in life." Kendra had been able to hear the smile in the man's voice.  
  
Kendra had thought it was a crank call. "Listen buddy, I work for the FBI.." 'At least I do for now,' her mind thought. "...and I can have this call traced and have officers at your door so fast it'll make your head spin."  
  
"But then you'll miss out on my generous offer," the voice was calm and so genteel that it all but commanded compliance.  
  
The caller's assuredness had entranced Kendra and she decided to play along for awhile, this crank call was different from the stereotypical heavy breathing ones. "What's your offer?" Kendra had asked, words slurring.  
  
"You give me what I desire most in the world right now and I'll give you what you desire most in the world."  
  
"And what is it you think I desire?" Kendra had asked doubtfully.  
  
"Notoriety, Kendra," the man's voice had cooed. "I'll make you famous."  
  
Kendra's curiosity had piqued. Not only did he know her name, he actually did know what she really wanted. "How do you know my name? And who are you?"  
  
"Who I am and how I know you are not important right now. What is important is what we can do for each other."  
  
"And what exactly would that be?"  
  
"Give me Will Graham and I'll give you Hannibal Lecter."  
  
Kendra had been stunned speechless and sat straight up on the couch, her over-exerted muscles screaming in protest. She had ignored them. "How will you give me Hannibal Lecter?" She had asked, shaking her head to try and clear the fog that the alcohol had left in her brain.  
  
There had been a brief pause. "Well, at the very least, you will be credited with either his capture or his demise." Another pause and Kendra had heard the smile return to the serene voice. "And the world will revere you for it."  
  
Kendra had sat still, pondering his words. She had been able to picture her name on the front page of every newspaper around the world and she smiled. But who was this person? And what did he want with Will Graham? "I don't know," she had finally replied pensively. "Who are you?"  
  
"I will give you time to think about this. I will call you in the morning." And the line had disconnected.  
  
Kendra had sat contemplating the message. It had seemed so surreal as if it had not even happened at all. She had stared at the phone in her hand and wondered if somehow she had imagined the entire call. After all, she had been wracking her brain for a way out of her predicament with Graham and maybe her intoxicated mind had produced this fabrication.  
  
She had shaken her head and the phone had rung again, startling her. Instead of answering it, she had listened as the answering machine picked up the call. She had heard the beep followed by a man's voice, but it was not the same man.  
  
"Agent Mitchell, this is Special Agent in Charge David Cullen in the Washington office of the DOJ, Office of the Inspector General, Investigations Division," the caller had paused and taken a breath. "I really need to speak with you Agent Mitchell at your convenience."  
  
The caller had proceeded to leave his number but had not alluded to what he was investigating. Kendra knew that in many instances the Department of Justice, Office of the Inspector General was asked to investigate suspected instances of misconduct by agents within the FBI. Panic had seized her throat and she had felt as if she could not breathe. Had Will Graham already informed someone of her proposition to him? He had said he would give her until the end of the week before he gave his evidence to anyone.  
  
'The lying bastard,' she had thought. 'Damn him!'  
  
Kendra had taken several more long drinks from her bottle and her depression had only increased. She was going to lose her job, there was no way out of it. Her depressed, fevered mind had then seized upon the former caller's idea and she had thought how her problems would just disappear if Graham was out of the picture. She had decided to wait and see if her mysterious caller phoned her again in the morning. Indeed, at 9am the next morning, the telephone had rung.  
  
"Hello?" Kendra had asked, head pounding from a hang-over.  
  
"Good morning Kendra," the hypnotic voice had replied. "Did you sleep well?"  
  
"No," she had replied dismally.  
  
"Did you consider my offer?"  
  
"It's all I thought about all night," she had answered. "But it won't work. If Will Graham disappears, I'll be fingered in that disappearance."  
  
"Why is that Kendra?" The voice had asked knowingly.  
  
"Graham claims he has a tape of me in a not very favorable light and he's going to share it if I don't leave Behavioral Science," Kendra had sighed. "If he disappears, and that tape shows up, I'm dead. Not only will I then lose my job, I'll also lose my freedom."  
  
"There is no tape, Kendra," the voice had replied.  
  
Kendra had shaken her head. "How do you know that?"  
  
"I know Will Graham and let's just say I've overheard a conversation or two. Additionally, I know there is tension in the office," he had paused and Kendra heard him chuckle, "especially since your actions the other evening when you made some bad decisions in the Hannibal Lecter case."  
  
"How do you know all of this?" Kendra had been flabbergasted. "Who are you?"  
  
"For lack of a better word, I suppose you could call me God," he had smiled. "I know all, I see all, and I control all."  
  
Kendra had sighed and shook her head and had thought how disturbed this guy was. "Then if there's no tape, my job is not in jeopardy and I have nothing to worry about right? So then why would I give you a shot at Will Graham?"  
  
"As I stated last night Kendra, for the notoriety of the capture of Hannibal Lecter," he had replied quietly. "For the infamy if you prefer. I know that is what you crave, what you desire above all things."  
  
Kendra's pounding head and persistent depression had about overwhelmed her and his knowledge of her deepest, darkest desires had bothered her. "How can you guarantee me that if I give you Graham you will give me Lecter?" Kendra's voice had risen slightly. She was frustrated and tired and short tempered.  
  
"You just have to trust me, Kendra," his soothing voice had washed over her. "But I never break a promise. It's simple, really. Just get him out of the office alone. If you play it cool, you'll come through the interrogation just fine. Within the week, Hannibal Lecter will either be in custody or dead." He had paused. "Then Will Graham will trouble you no more and all your years of sacrifice and hard work will have paid off."  
  
Now as she sat at her desk, Kendra Mitchell groaned and laid her head down on her desk. She could not believe that she had agreed to his idea. The depression that had sunk in on Tuesday evening had only grown and now that she was feeling guilty over her involvement in Will Graham's disappearance, her depression threatened to consume her completely.  
  
'How could I have been so stupid?' she asked herself. 'How could I have not known he was actually Dr. Lecter?'  
  
To justify her initial involvement, Kendra had convinced herself that her mysterious caller was not a real threat to Graham and would do him no serious harm. But when she had seen the man creep soundlessly from the bushes and had recognized Dr. Hannibal Lecter himself, she had frozen with fear at the sight of him. In that instant she had known that he had played her for a fool. He had used her just as he used everyone for his own sadistic pleasure.  
  
Kendra Mitchell groaned again. God only knew what he was doing to Will Graham right now. She sighed. Somewhere along the way, she had lost her integrity, she had lost her morals, and she had become an unfamiliar vainglorious person. She did not know who she had become or who she was anymore and she sank even further into depression. For a moment she stared dismally at her gun lying on her desk.  
  
Kendra jumped as her phone buzzed and she sighed. It had begun.  
Will Graham heard someone calling his name, invading the oblivion of his chloroform-induced stupor. He attempted to raise his head but it was too heavy. He tried to open his eyes and the lids were too heavy as well. For that matter, every inch of his entire body felt too heavy. He had no idea what time it was or even what day it was at this point. His head ached and his throat was sore. He swallowed and felt as if his throat had been seared. He hovered around consciousness but he did not want to wake up, he did not want to face the demon he knew awaited him.  
  
"William," an all too familiar voice commanded, "wake up."  
  
'William?' his fevered mind thought. 'God I hate that name. Only one other person has ever called me that since elementary school.' He knew that person and the one before him now were one and the same.  
  
Suddenly he was struck by an open palmed hand across his cheek and his head rocked back and to the side, fresh pain exploding through his temples as his head hit the wall behind him. He groaned and forced his eye lids to open. He blinked several times in the harsh fluorescent light and tried to focus. His tongue ran along his dry lips.  
  
"Dr. Lecter," he stated sullenly.  
  
The doctor leaned down and looked into his face. "Good morning Will," he replied sweetly as if they were dear old friends.  
  
"Where am I?" Will croaked.  
  
"You'll see soon enough," Dr. Lecter's calm voice announced. "Now wake up and focus. School is in session, Will, and you need to be instructed."  
  
At his words, Will forced his mind to focus and willed his blurry eyes to clear. He squinted and peered carefully around him. The first thing he noticed was that he was sitting on a cold hard floor and propped against a hard stone wall. He was clad in his white undershirt and pants only, his coat, suit jacket, watch, tie and dress shirt had been removed as well as his shoes and socks. He glanced to his immediate left and spied a small porcelain sink attached to the wall. He slowly pivoted his aching head around to the right, taking in the full layout of his lair. Three stone walls met his fuzzy gaze, the one he was leaning against and one on either side of him. In front of him was a long, clear piece of what was surely a reinforced bullet proof glass wall with small holes that ran the length of the top and middle of it. It ran parallel to the wall behind him and was reinforced with metal. The floor in which he sat was dusty and he could see Dr. Lecter's footprints leading between the door in the glass wall to where he now sat. Against the wall to his right stood an old wire cot covered with grime and spider webs. To the wall on his left was a small metal table and chair both bolted to the floor and equally covered with the same filth as the cot. As Will's eyes cleared even further, he suddenly recognized where he was and a chill ran up his spine.  
  
A cold wet cloth was thrown over his head, causing him to involuntarily jump, and he lifted one awkward hand up and removed it.  
  
"Use that to help clear your head, Will, I want you alert."  
  
Will obediently wiped his face and eyes. He tried to sit up straight to work the kinks out of his back and neck but his aching head screamed in opposition. Slowly, he tilted his head up and gazed toward the towering face of Dr. Hannibal Lecter, illuminated by the fluorescent lights, and Will blinked in the light.  
  
"Hello Will," Dr. Lecter smiled. "It's been a long time hasn't it?"  
  
"Just kill me and get it over with," Will grimaced as he sat up straight.  
  
Dr. Lecter made a clucking noise with his tongue and knelt beside Will. "Now where would be the fun in that?"  
  
Will rolled his eyes. "I see you brought me to your old haunt." He paused. "How is that possible? It's been abandoned for some time." What he did not say is that he knew this would be one of the first locations that the FBI would search.  
  
"Ah yes, kind of ironic isn't it?" Lecter smiled again. "Years ago this is where you put me to rot for all eternity and yet," he paused and leaned in until their noses nearly touched. "Instead this is where you will rot for all eternity." He straightened up and continued to smile. "Procuring this building was rather easy, actually. After it was shut down due to budget constraints years ago, its care was left in the hands of one maintenance man, one slightly mentally and physically challenged maintenance man. It is amazing how far flattery and showing interest in a person will get you."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Will asked dazedly, trying desperately to clear his mind and focus.  
  
"One might say I've been a sort of pen pal to the young man for years in the off chance that one day I might need to pay a visit one more time to the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Of course, he has no idea who I really am, but he was delighted when I wrote him that I was bringing a few friends for a sort of field trip. And I must say he was an immense help in hooking up the generator so we have lights and reconnecting the water." Dr. Lecter paused. "Oh, and there's no need to worry about any unwanted pesky FBI agents interrupting us, they searched here in the middle of the night before I brought you here."  
  
Will's heart sank at the news and his mind worked frantically for a way to escape but it was still much too fuzzy and he felt sure that he must have been drugged after being kidnapped to ensure his compliance, the chloroform would not have kept him knocked out this long. He shook his head. He could not believe what he was hearing. "Since we have running water then, can I have a drink or is it your plan to kill me through dehydration?"  
  
Lecter gestured to the sink next to Will. "Of course you can have all the water you want." He paused and made his way toward the door. "Now there's no need for sarcasm Will, you know how much I detest incivility."  
  
"You're gonna kill me anyway, so who gives a shit if I'm civil or not?"  
  
"Ah but you see, Will, the level of your pain could depend on the level of your civility or the lack thereof." Dr. Lecter grinned at him savagely.  
  
Will just sat and stared at Dr. Lecter, no emotions registered at all on either mans' face. They regarded one another for awhile until Lecter smiled slightly, the smile a fox might give to his caged prey.  
  
"I warned you to leave well enough alone but you just could not heed my words," he replied softly. "You had to go and corrupt her."  
  
"Oh come on," Will said angrily. "I didn't corrupt your precious Clarice. She's a woman, not the Virgin Mary. Christ," he muttered. "You have built her up to unattainable proportions in your mind that no one could live up to."  
  
"You know, I much preferred you as an addict Will, you minded your own business." Dr. Lecter replied coolly.  
  
"And I kept my mouth shut, right?" Will asked. "You have always hated the fact that I stand up to you that I call you on your bullshit. Clarice always has too and you love her for it but you hate me for it."  
  
"But then you got it into your head that you were destined for greater things," Dr. Lecter continued, ignoring Will's comment, "that maybe you could be the savior of the FBI," he drew out his last few words slowly as he eyed Will, who remembered vaguely that Kendra Mitchell had said something along those same lines to him but the memory was too vague. Dr. Lecter shook his head slowly. "I know you are not a religious man, Will, but I'm positive you've heard the stories of what the Romans did to the world's savior." He paused and grinned thinly. "In that context it is rather amusing that you referred to Agent Starling as the Virgin Mary."  
  
Will's eyes closed briefly as he thought how crucifixion would be a horrendous way to die. He opened his eyes and met Dr. Lecter's gaze.  
  
"What do you want?" Will asked simply. "You want my blood? You want me to scream? You want me to beg for my life?" He paused. "I would not beg for my life, especially not from you."  
  
Dr. Lecter's grin faded and his eyes turned icy. "What do I want, Will?" He paused and moved closer to Will, his fists clenched. "I want to make you suffer as you have made me suffer. I want you to watch as I violate someone you love, just as I watched as you violated someone I love."  
  
Will stared back, on the outside he was the epitome of calm, but that ball of fear re-appeared in his stomach. He wondered whom Lecter could be referring to. Dr. Lecter broke off their stare and strode to the door. He walked through, closed it and locked it. He looked at Will again and smiled cruelly.  
  
"We will talk more about the betrayal and crucifixion of saviors later but for now, it is time for you to suffer emotionally."  
  
'But I think you and I love the same person,' Will thought, though he felt it better not to say so aloud. 'And I know you would never hurt her.' "I don't know who you could be referring to," he replied.  
  
Dr. Lecter cocked one eyebrow at Will's comment. "Don't you?" he asked meekly. "Daddy," he hissed.  
  
Will's eyes grew wide at the word and Dr. Lecter moved out of Will's vision down the hall.  
  
"No," Will whispered.  
  
He stood up on unsteady legs and lurched toward the glass partition, his feet padding fresh foot prints into the dusty floor. It was then that he saw the large wooden chair bolted to the floor in front of his cell with leather straps on the arms and front legs. Lying on the floor to the right of the chair was a hacksaw, a hatchet, rope, wire, several needles, a nail gun, and something he had certainly heard of but never actually seen, an electro-shock baton.  
  
"Oh fuck," Will whispered and pressed himself against the glass, straining to see where Dr. Lecter had gone.  
  
Suddenly he heard footsteps coming back up toward him, two pair, and sweat beaded his forehead. Then they were there, in his line of vision, and Will's eyes widened in horror. He saw Dr. Lecter guiding his son Josh up the hall toward the chair, blindfolded and his hands tethered behind him.  
  
"No," Will yelled and banged his open palmed hands against the glass.  
  
Josh turned his head in the direction of Will's voice. "Dad?" he asked uncertainly.  
  
Will's heart broke at the sight and sound of his son whom he had not seen or heard in years. He was tall and lean, almost as tall as Will and he had not even hit his growth spurt yet, with his father's same young, boyish face and Molly's raven black hair. He looked so young, so innocent, like a lamb going to the slaughter.  
  
"Josh, I'm here," Will called and his voice was choked with tears. "Do not be afraid."  
  
Dr. Lecter chuckled slightly as he helped Josh to sit down in the chair. He bent down and strapped the boy's left leg firmly to the leg of the chair. Will threw himself up against the glass partition but he bounced right of it.  
  
"No," he yelled again, pleading. "Don't do this you shit. It's me you're angry at, it's me you want to hurt. He's an innocent. Let him be. It's me, Hannibal, it's me."  
  
Lecter turned his head to regard Will. "An innocent?" He repeated and shook his head. "If you'll recall years ago I told you that no one would ever be safe around you. He is your son, he is hardly an innocent."  
  
Will threw himself against the glass again harder, again and again until he saw stars swim in his vision and his legs threatened to fold. "You sick fuck! You stupid shit! I will fucking kill you if you touch him!" He yelled in desperation.  
  
Dr. Lecter clucked his tongue again and shook his head but turned back to strap Josh's other leg to the chair. Will's mind worked frantically, looking for a way to get Lecter to come after him instead of harming his son. He pounded his fists against the glass, tears of rage streamed down his cheeks.  
  
'You must calm down,' he told himself. 'Think damn you, think. That's your son he's got.'  
  
Will's mind seized on an idea and he ran with it, anything was worth a try at this point. He stopped pounding the glass, wiped his face, and looked calmly at Dr. Lecter.  
  
"Admit it, Dr. Lecter," he said quietly. "You aren't mad at me, and you aren't mad at Josh. The person you're really mad at is yourself." He paused and he saw Lecter glance briefly in his direction. "You're mad at yourself because once again I proved that I'm better than you and it kills you."  
  
Dr. Lecter had finished strapping Josh's legs to the chair. He straightened up and looked at Will. "This isn't going to work, Will. You cannot goad me into attacking you."  
  
"I'm not trying to goad you," Will shook his head. "I'm merely pointing out facts. The fact that I slept with Clarice Starling is killing you." 'That's the key,' his mind screamed at him, 'Clarice. That's how you'll get to him.'  
  
Dr. Lecter had never had a tangible weakness before and Will knew he had to try and exploit it. He was unsure if he would be able to provoke the doctor but it was worth a try. He shook his head. It pained him to think ill of her let alone to say it out loud. But for Josh's sake, he knew he must.  
  
"What, do you think I'm actually in love with her?" Will scoffed. "Come on, like I could ever develop an attachment to someone like her," he paused and watched Dr. Lecter remove the binds from Josh's wrists and place his right arm on the arm of the chair. "What was it you called her once? One generation away from poor white trash?" He nodded. "That's the truth. Nah, she was just a play thing for awhile, a mere amusement."  
  
Lecter's jaw clenched slightly. He detested rudeness but especially when the words were directed against someone he cared deeply for. He glanced in Will's direction and the beginnings of fury burned within his eyes. Then he took several deep breaths.  
  
Will saw Dr. Lecter's jaw tighten and he smiled inwardly. 'Keep going,' he told himself. Lecter buckled the strap around Josh's right arm.  
  
"You know, though, just between us guys you don't know what you're missing. You know what they say about red heads, right?" He chuckled. "It's true. God, that woman is wild in bed." He watched Dr. Lecter's gaze shoot in his direction again. "I tell you, she is the best piece of ass I've ever had."  
  
Dr. Lecter's eyes burned like ice in his face. Fury pulsed just beneath the surface of his skin. He knew that Will was trying to get a rise out of him and he attempted to calm down. He could not let Will Graham get the better of him. The problem was he had never cared this deeply before about anyone and he was in misery to hear the horrible degrading things that louse was saying about her. He regarded Will for a moment before moving to Josh's left side to strap that arm down.  
  
Will had hoped that his last comment would do it, that it would cause him to rush into the cell, leaving Josh alone, but it had not worked. Will sighed. He could detect the turmoil within Dr. Lecter and knew that it was a new experience for the doctor; to attempt to remain in control while someone he loathed hurled degrading comments at him about someone he loved. Will thought for sure he almost had the Good Doctor and that he needed to keep going but he did not want to utter these next words, it killed him to speak of Clarice like this. But he had no choice.  
  
"Yup, she is sweet as sugar," he smiled. "God what an amazing fuck she is, you'll really have to try her out sometime." He watched as now Dr. Lecter removed the blindfold from Josh's eyes. The boy blinked from Dr. Lecter to his father behind the glass and terror was written all over his face.  
  
"Dad?" He asked fearfully.  
  
Will ignored him to continue his barraging of Dr. Lecter. "You know what though, Hannibal? When you do finally get to fuck her, don't ever forget one thing: I had her first," he replied smugly.  
  
Dr. Lecter turned to glare at Will. He could feel his self control just about dissipated. He looked at the man who he had watched make love to his goddess, his Clarice and his fury almost overtook him.  
  
Will was not sure if he was reading Dr. Lecter correctly or not but he thought he could discern intense fury within the man. He nodded and grinned slightly at Dr. Lecter. "That's right. You could think of it this way: I broke her in for you." He saw Lecter's fists clenching and unclenching and knew he almost had him. "So Hannibal, when you're inside her and you cum, just remember one thing," he paused slightly looking levelly at Lecter, "I've been there...and done that."  
  
That was all he could take. Dr. Lecter roared with fury and leapt to the cell door. Will took a step backward his arms out, palms up, gesturing for Lecter to come. In a flash, Lecter had the door opened. He burst through and punched Will squarely in the jaw. Will grunted as his head rocked and his unsteady legs buckled. He fell to one knee.  
  
"Dad!" Josh cried and looked to Lecter. "Leave him alone you son of a bitch!"  
  
As Will attempted to regain his footing, Dr. Lecter kicked him directly in his ribs and he heard two crack. Will groaned and rolled onto his back, clutching at his ribs. All of the fury, all of the rage that he had kept penned up over the last several weeks was unleashed. In his mind, all Dr. Lecter could see was Will atop Clarice, holding her pinned against the mattress and her moaning in pleasure. He bent down and punched Will in the face repeatedly, mashing his nose, blacking his eyes, tearing his cheeks, forehead and lips and Will curled his arms around his head in a feeble attempt to ward off the blows. Josh screamed at Lecter to stop and at last he did, fists clenched at his sides, jaw clenched tight, and stared down at Will who now rose up unsteadily on his hands and knees, blood streaming from his face to the floor. He leaned his forehead on the cold dirty floor and groaned.  
  
A touch of his rage spent, Dr. Lecter left Will to bleed on the floor and exited the cell. He roughly un-tethered Josh from the chair and forcefully tossed him into the cell next to Will's, Miggs' former cell. Will slowly lifted his head and peered through his nearly swollen closed eyes to watch. He tried to stand, but could not. He cursed his weakened body, this might be the only chance he got to attempt an attack on Dr. Lecter but his body was betraying him. He could feel the ends of his two broken ribs grating against one another, sending jolts of misery coursing through his body and his face and head felt like they were on fire.  
  
"Dad," Josh called from the next cell but the stone wall in between them did not allow for visual contact. "Dad, are you alright?"  
  
Will groaned but he could not find his voice to speak. He heard rather than saw Dr. Lecter re-enter his cell and he knew it was now or never. He mustered any strength he could find and waited until the doctor was standing over him. Will lunged up, hitting Dr. Lecter in the chest with his shoulder, knocking him backward. Dr. Lecter retained his footing but Will's legs betrayed him again and he sat down hard onto the floor. He cursed his weak body once more.  
  
"Now, now, Will," Dr. Lecter, seemingly recomposed from his earlier fury at Will and back in control, clucked lightly. "We can't have you escaping now can we?"  
  
Broken and almost beaten, Will Graham allowed Dr. Lecter to lead him to the chair. He all but fell into it and strained to see through the blood that was beginning to cake his eyelids. Dr. Lecter strapped his arms and legs quickly to the chair and Will gave up, closing his eyes, and leaned his head back against the chair.  
  
"Stop this please!" Josh screamed, his hands gripping the bars of his cell so tightly that his knuckles were white. "Just leave him alone! Why are you doing this?"  
  
Dr. Lecter ignored the boy, his full attention on Will. He leaned in close and Will felt warm breath on his face.  
  
"You think you're better than me now, William?" Dr. Lecter sneered. "You know those things you said about Agent Starling were very ugly and while I know you think you were saying them just to get me to turn on you, a part of me wonders if you don't actually believe those awful things you said."  
  
Will shook his head defiantly but his eyes remained closed.  
  
Dr. Lecter grinned. "I know she will be deeply hurt to hear the things you said but do not fear, as I always have, I will be there to comfort her."  
  
Will forced his eyes to open and he peered blurrily at Dr. Lecter. "Leave Clarice alone," he rasped.  
  
"You know I cannot do that Will. She and I are destined to be together." He smiled and glanced at his watch. It was time to meet up with the UPS truck and deposit his little package as it made it's almost daily delivery to the FBI building. "I suppose it is about time though to send her a little something. A keepsake if you will."  
  
Will watched warily as Dr. Lecter picked up the hatchet next to the chair. He gritted his teeth, this was going to be bad. Will closed his eyes tightly and steeled himself for the pain to come. He could hear Josh screaming but he took comfort in the fact that at least for now he had managed to spare his son physical torment. Then he felt Dr. Lecter's hand grasp his left one, holding it steady against the arm of the chair with his fingers splayed, and Will's entire body tensed. Then the hatchet fell.  
  
To be continued. Please review!  
  
Kurt: LOL, I loved the 'dramatic organ music'!! Thank you for reading and reviewing.  
  
Shattered: I'm sure this chapter makes up even more for the lack of H/C mush! LOL, yes, I laughed out loud at the idea of the GD at a rave!! We had just watched a movie in one of my Sociology classes that analyzed the social implications behind raves and for some reason, I thought how Dr. Lecter would view them. Too funny! Thanks for reviewing.  
  
DevilsQT: LOL, sorry to make you wait on the cliffie of that last chapter! Although this one's got a pretty good cliffie as well. Thanks for your great review.  
  
LoT: Hey, Yowsers, thanks for your review. LOL, the two characters that piss you off!! We'll see what's in store for Zachary and Kendra. Thanks so much again for reading and reviewing.  
  
ducki: Thank you for your kind review.  
  
Mel: LOL, I don't mean to stress you out. Well, not too much anyway! To kill Will or not to kill Will, that is the question! Stay tuned. And thanks again for reading.  
  
Hanni85: LOL to your review about your teacher. Thank you for reading and reviewing.  
  
Nan: Thanks again for posting your review to the lecterphiles since FF wasn't working too well. Thank you so much for your kind words, I always love your reviews.  
  
guber: LOL, if last chapter's cliffie about killed you, I can only imagine what this one will do! I will try to update as soon as possible, but I'm becoming pressed for time with school papers needing to be done. I'm glad you're loving the story and thanks for reviewing. 


	18. Chapter 18: The Sum of Us

Author's Note: Okay, guys, here we go, a scene many of you have been clamoring for finishes out this chapter. However, the ending may be different than the ending you might have had in mind for the scene. And hey, we're almost done, faithful readers! Just a few more chapters I think so stay with me, we're in the home stretch.  
  
Chapter 18: The Sum of Us  
  
The day was bright. The previous day's rainstorm had cleared out and left in its wake a warm fall sun. Clarice Starling was running. Her Nike-clad feet pounded the pavement, her red ponytail flapped out behind her. She had begun to breathe hard and there was a persistent stitch in her side but she ran on, relentless. Clarice kept hoping this was all a dream, that if she kept running, if she kept pushing herself to her physical limit, that she would finally break through unconsciousness, wake up, and find Will asleep beside her, safe and sound.  
  
She was so far beyond the point of exhaustion that she was bordering on collapse. It was Saturday, almost 2pm, she had not slept at all the night before and she had been running the block around the FBI building since noon. There was not much she could do at this point except worry, Will and Josh Graham's disappearances had been turned over to the Violent Crimes division. Already, swarms of agents had checked and ruled out the most obvious locations: Dr. Lecter's previous homes and offices, Will's current home, the Quantico safehouse, Will and Molly Graham's former residences, even the closed down Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Nothing had been found anywhere.  
  
'Tag you're it, Clarice.'  
  
Clarice had been asked for her opinion on the one sentence note seeing as how it was addressed to her personally. She had said that this was a game for Dr. Lecter, he was challenging her, he wanted her to chase him. She had been thanked for her time and told that she would be contacted if there were any developments in the case of locating her partner and his son. Only Seth Williams knew how personal this investigation was to her and how being out of the proverbial loop was killing her.  
  
Kendra Mitchell had been questioned but said she had seen nothing. She had said that she had met with Will at the Aquarium and they had left in separate directions. When pressed as to what their meeting had entailed, she had said that it was to clear up a misunderstanding between the two of them and that everything had been resolved before they had gone their separate ways. When questioned as to why the meeting had taken place outside the office she had claimed that she felt it would be more beneficial to meet in a neutral location.  
  
Clarice furrowed her brow as she reminisced over Kendra's words now. She highly doubted that Will would have come to a "resolution" with Kendra, he had been adamant about getting her out of Behavioral Science. But maybe she had confronted him regarding the existence of the 'tape' and he had admitted that it did not exist. Still, there was something that did not seem right here but Clarice could not put her finger on it.  
  
Will's car had been towed back to FBI Headquarters and had been searched for unusual hair, fiber, and fingerprints to no avail. But because of the note, Dr. Hannibal Lecter had been named the primary suspect despite the lack of any signature. Zachary Matthews had been interrogated once more in the hospital, still in recovery from gunshot wound surgery. He had laughed when he learned of Agent Graham's disappearance but it was quickly obvious that he knew nothing. Molly Graham had barely been talked out of hopping the next plane to D.C. by Clarice. She had told Molly that there was nothing she would be able to do here and that she would be better off staying at home until there was some definite news. Clarice did not want to have to play hostess to Will's ex-wife for obvious emotional reasons.  
  
After she had been told that she would be informed of any developments Clarice had gone back to the hotel, packed up her and Will's things and checked out. As she had been packing up his clothes she had broken down finally and sobbed into one of his dress shirts. She had felt so helpless, like she had when she was ten and there was nothing she could do to bring her father back. She was helpless to do anything for Will and Joshua and they were in this position because of her. As she had walked through the door of her home and dropped the two duffle bags with hers and Will's clothes onto the floor, she had realized that she had not been home since Monday when she had been shot, when Will had taken care of her, and when they had first made love. It seemed like ages ago. Her eyes had darted to the stools at the breakfast nook, the ones she and Will had occupied still sat directly next to one another just as they had left them. Clarice had sighed and walked down the hall to her room.  
  
The sheets and blankets had been in complete disarray, just as they had been left and Clarice had felt tears spring to her eyes again. She had wondered what Dr. Lecter was doing to Will and his son at that very moment. A thousand horrendous acts had run through her mind and she closed her eyes. The tears had begun to thread down her cheeks and she had collapsed onto the bed. Her body had desperately needed sleep but her mind would not let sleep come. She had curled up unknowingly into the fetal position and sobbed again for almost an hour.  
  
With sleep evading her, Clarice had sat up, wiped her eyes, and decided that she must do something. She could not just sit here alone in her home and wait to get a call saying that Will's body had been found, or worse, that pieces of his body had been found. She had changed into a black exercise bra, black leggings, and a white UVA tee shirt, pulled on her running shoes, and driven back to the FBI building so she could be close in case there was news. Clutching her cell phone tightly in her hand in case it rang, Clarice Starling had run and run and run, attempting to outrun her nightmares, her demons, and her fears.  
  
Now as she ran, she found she could not go on and she stopped, sitting down hard on the grass outside the building. Clarice sat with her knees bent, arms draped over them, and her head lying on her arms. She breathed very heavily and she knew she should stretch but she had no strength left. She sat that way for a while before she lay back down in the grass, closed her eyes and felt the sun warm on her face, drying her sweat.  
  
The cell phone in her hand buzzed. Clarice took a deep breath and put the phone to her ear.  
  
"Starling."  
  
"Clarice, how soon can you get back here?" Seth Williams asked.  
  
Clarice sat up. "I'm just outside right now. I was jogging," she paused and gulped. "What is it?"  
  
"A little white box just arrived for you mixed in with several other articles of mail via UPS. Your name is on it and it looks like Dr. Lecter's writing," he replied quietly.  
  
Clarice closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. She felt tears pool suddenly behind her lids. 'A box?' she thought. "Shit," she muttered and Seth could hear the tears in her voice.  
  
"I'm holding off the boys from Violent Crimes but barely," Seth said softly. "I thought you might want to open it yourself." He paused. "But if you'd rather they opened it, tell me."  
  
"No," Clarice shook her head. "I'll be there in two minutes."  
  
Clarice pressed the off button on the phone, stood up, and bounded inside the building. Instead of waiting for the elevator, she bounded up the stairs. As she opened the door to the hallway leading to the Behavioral Science division, she was met with sympathetic stares and whispers because of the disappearance of her partner. Ignoring everyone, she strode quickly to her office where she found Seth Williams, Kendra Mitchell, and four agents who were identified as being from Violent Crimes. She nodded to each one in turn and looked at the small white box sitting in the middle of her desk.  
  
It was the type of box you would be given by a jeweler to bring the jewelry case that held a bracelet in home. It had a red ribbon around it tied into a bow that curled at the end. Written in black ink on the box was simply: Special Agent Clarice Starling, FBI. She closed her eyes briefly as she recognized Dr. Lecter's handwriting. She sighed heavily and looked around the room. The other agents were watching her carefully.  
  
"Do you want us to go, Clarice," Seth asked gently.  
  
She sighed again. "No, it's fine."  
  
Clarice Starling picked up the small white box and undid the ribbon. She lifted the lid and found cotton batting inside. On top of the cotton batting was a folded piece of stationary paper. She opened it and read slowly. She recognized the beginning rhyme as patterning the old nursery rhyme, "Jack and Jill."  
  
"Clarice and Will went up a hill  
  
To fetch Dr. Lecter but alas  
  
Will fell down, FBI savior uncrowned  
  
And met his ending at our genesis."  
  
That was where the rhyme ended and she furrowed her brow in contemplation. There was a postscript at the bottom.  
  
"Sorry the ending rhyme is a bit stretched but I composed this in a hurry you know. I trust you'll forgive me Clarice. Happy hunting."  
  
That was all. No signature, no other words of explanation, nothing. Clarice took a deep breath and slowly lifted the corner of the cotton batting. As she pulled it off, her breath caught in her chest.  
  
"Oh God," she whimpered. She set the box carefully down on her desk, looked at Seth through the beginnings of tears, and finally her exhausted, beaten body collapsed.  
  
Seth rushed to her side but could not catch her before she hit the floor heavily. He cradled her head in his arms. The other agents gathered around her desk and peered into the box. It contained a severed pinky finger.  
It was just after 10pm when Seth Williams helped Clarice Starling through the door of her home, supporting her weight with one arm behind her back. He guided her to the couch and she sat down heavily with a grunt. Her face was pale and drawn. He watched her for a moment before heading into the kitchen. When he returned, he held a glass of water out to her. She took it and he pulled a prescription bottle from his jacket pocket. It was the sedative her doctor had called into the pharmacy. He shook a pill out into his hand and held it out to her.  
  
"I don't want it," she mumbled.  
  
"Clarice," Seth said firmly. "Take it. You need to sleep. Don't argue with me about this."  
  
Clarice glanced up at him, took the pill out of his hand, placed it in her mouth and swallowed it. She had no strength left to fight. Seth sat down on the coffee table in front of her and put his hands over hers.  
  
"Do you want me to call 'Delia? Do you want her to stay with you tonight?" He asked gently.  
  
"No," she shook her head slowly. "I'm fine. I just need to shower and go to bed. Thank you though. Besides, this pill will knock me out and I won't be up all night thinking so I don't need any company."  
  
Seth looked at her weary face. He wanted to comfort her, to assure her everything would be alright, but he did not know that it would be. In the hours after Clarice had opened the box, the finger had been positively identified through fingerprints on file as having belonged to Will Graham. The note had been analyzed for hair, fiber, and prints with nothing significant. The stationary paper was common and could be found at most any card store throughout the country. The content itself had also been analyzed and was still being worked on. Clarice had not been able to offer any suggestions regarding the content of the note, her mind was too exhausted and she had been unable to focus. Seth squeezed her hands gently and gave her a small smile. Clarice lowered her eyes.  
  
"I cannot even imagine what he's going through right now," she said dismally. "God I'm in hell. I can't help Will or Josh, I can't figure out that note. I can't do anything."  
  
"Clarice, stop. This won't help anything. You need to rest tonight," Seth said softly. "Tomorrow we'll start again. We'll get that riddle in the note solved. We'll figure out where they are and we'll find them."  
  
"I can't do it," Clarice muttered. "I just can't do it."  
  
"Clarice, somewhere along the way, you lost faith in yourself, thinking that nothing you do matters," Seth smiled gently. He watched the fresh tears begin to roll down her cheeks at his words. "But it matters now more than ever, Will's and Josh's lives are on the line and you can do this, Clarice. You MUST do this. Dr. Lecter always helped you, he always gave you the answer you were looking for, you just had to wrap your brain around it to see it. This instance is no exception I'm sure. The answer to where they are is in that note you just have to figure it out. And I know that you can, Clarice."  
  
Seth held Clarice as she cried.  
Hannibal Lecter slipped quietly through the door of Clarice's townhouse. He had waited for two hours after Agent Seth Williams had left before entering to ensure he was not going to return. He listened and heard Clarice's deep, steady breathing and he smiled, this is how it should be. He walked down the hall, stood in the doorway of her room, and watched her. He had not seen her in nearly a week and it had pained him deeply. Just the sight of her now was enough to bring him to his knees in submission to her.  
  
She was asleep on her usual left side and the bed covers had been kicked to the foot of the bed although her house was chilly. He noticed that her hair was still damp and he could detect the scents of her being freshly showered. Tonight she wore a white spaghetti strap tank top camisole that melded to her body and a pair of pajama bottoms he did not recognize. He puzzled over them as he walked to the far side of her bed. He knelt down next to the bed and peered closely at them. They were blue plaid flannel with drawstrings. The pants were far too big for her and she had cinched them tight with the drawstring around the waist and rolled the legs up to her ankles so she would not trip on them. It then dawned on him that they must be Will's.  
  
Dr. Lecter frowned and felt the now familiar jealousy boil up within him again. He glanced at her face and saw it was tear-stained and pale. Then he noticed she was clutching something tightly to her chest, her nose buried in it. It was a white tee-shirt. Dr. Lecter leaned in and sniffed it. The scents of Will Graham filled his nostrils, from the soap he used, to his shaving cream, to his cologne. The same scents he had smelled on Will when he'd taken him yesterday.  
  
Lecter sat up on the floor and his nostrils flared. He suppressed an urge to race back to the Baltimore hospital and rip the man to pieces. He shook his head. His fun would be over much too quickly if he did that but the effort required every ounce of his self control. Dr. Lecter laid his head on Clarice's bed and stroked her hair gently. He needed to talk with her, needed to reason with her. He had to convince her that Will was not the man for her, Will would not treat her as well as he would treat her, especially after having heard the man speak of her in the degrading way he had earlier. Clarice stirred just a bit but hardly at all.  
  
Puzzled by the fact that she was not easily awakened tonight, Dr. Lecter lifted his head and his eye caught sight of the prescription bottle on the bedside table. 'Ah,' he thought as he read the label. 'She has taken a sedative, no wonder I cannot rouse her.' He looked again at her tear- stained, pain-stricken face and sighed.  
  
"My love," he whispered softly and he caressed her face, her arms, and her stomach where her shirt had ridden up. "You must try to understand. I'm only doing what is best for you my little starling. I know that right now you are hurt and scared but in time you will come to see this is all for the best." He paused and sighed inwardly. "I am sorry for my lapse in judgment today when I sent you the little 'gift'. That was tasteless and it will not happen again. Please forgive my momentary lapse. And I just want you to know that Will won't suffer anymore, I'll take him quickly." Lecter smiled in spite of the little white lie he now told her. "You must understand he could never love you like I love you. He could never cherish you like I cherish you."  
  
Dr. Lecter leaned over, kissed her forehead, and looked at her longingly. After years of wishing he could climb into bed and just hold her, Hannibal Lecter did just that. He removed his shoes and jacket and lay down beside his beloved. He wrapped his right arm around her protectively. His face touched the back of her head, he buried his face in her hair and he could smell her shampoo..  
  
'Finesse,' he thought.  
  
..the lotion on her skin..  
  
'Bath and Body Works' Warm Vanilla Sugar,' he thought.  
  
..and the faint smell of her perfume.  
  
'Pleasures,' he smiled into her neck. 'God, I could just eat her up.'  
  
He lie there breathing in the scents of her when suddenly the thought that she had put that perfume on for Will tickled his mind. He closed his eyes, pained by the thought, and a mental image played itself out in his head. He saw them as he had seen them a few nights ago; Will touching her, caressing her, kissing her, making love to her and it was more than he could bear.  
  
He opened his eyes to rid himself of the image and looked at Clarice. Dr. Lecter touched her shoulder and marveled at how silky soft it was. He moved his body closer until he was pressed against her. Her skin was chilled and he pulled the blankets up over the two of them and they lay together, Special Agent Clarice Starling and sociopath Dr. Hannibal Lecter, as casually as old lovers. He propped himself up on one elbow, and caressed her cheek softly. He gently rolled her over so she lay on her back and he looked at her full mouth. Subconsciously, his tongue snaked out and ran nervously across his lips. Clarice Starling was the only person that had ever brought out such emotions in him: lust, love, fear, anxiety, and she brought them out triple-fold. Finally, denying himself no longer, Dr. Lecter leaned down and kissed her lips. As he probed her mouth gently with his tongue she stirred, a low guttural moan emitting from her throat.  
  
Dr. Lecter would have guessed her moan to be one of horror and revulsion at his uninvited kiss. But to his utter surprise, Clarice wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back. They kissed passionately for a moment, their tongues seeking the other one out. He moved his lips along her neck to her ear. He flicked the lobe lightly with his tongue.  
  
"I've missed you so, my love," he whispered softly.  
  
She moaned softly, although her eyes remained closed. His right hand lay on her flat stomach, his thumb drawing rings around her navel, and she suddenly took hold of it, moving it up her body until it rested directly on her left breast. He could feel its warmth through the thin material of her shirt. This time he moaned and leaned in to kiss her. She met his mouth with hers and they melted into each other. His hands roamed her body greedily.  
  
Then he looked at her and realized that she was still half asleep from the sedative. It did not matter, she would come fully awake soon and then he would take her. After years of imagining what Special Agent Starling tasted like, what she felt like, he would finally know. How deliciously intense the moment would be when he finally entered her for the first time, their eyes locked together as their bodies became locked together, just as intense as the first time he had ever touched her, lightly caressing her hand with his finger through the bars of his cage as she had taken her case file from his hand so many years ago. And then she would be his and he would be hers. Whatever she told him to do, he would do it. He lived only for her now and her alone. Their time together had finally come. His only wish was that Will Graham could see them, be forced to watch as now he made love to Clarice, making her moan, making her climax.  
  
He ran his tongue slowly down her neck, pausing over the point where he could feel her pulse just beneath the surface of her skin and his teeth gripped it and he sucked until he almost drew blood and she arched her body into his in pleasure. Dr. Lecter ached to taste the blood that gave her life, to take a bit of her into him, but he would wait to take it until he had her full permission. His tongue proceeded to descend to her shoulder, tasting her sweet skin. He kissed one breast through the fabric of her shirt, his teeth gently grating over her nipple, and he heard her softly whisper his name, except, it wasn't his name. Dr. Lecter leaned back and looked down at her closed eyes.  
  
"Will," she moaned again.  
  
Dismayed, he fell back onto the bed. Tears began to slip out of his eyes and roll to the mattress below. What a fool he had been to think that she would accept him, would take him. He turned away from her and sat up on the edge of the bed. It was not supposed to be this way. Clarice, the one he had given everything to and sacrificed so much for, was supposed to be in love with him. Instead, she called for HIM, his nemesis. The man who had incarcerated him, the man who had later come to him mockingly for assistance, the man who believed he was better then Lecter, the man he hated with every fiber of his being.  
  
'Once upon a time you loved that man like he was your own son,' a voice inside his head insisted.  
  
"No," Dr. Lecter whispered vehemently.  
  
But he could not deny it. When he and Will Graham had been working together on profiling, he had come to care deeply for the young man. He was personable and easy going with a good sense of humor. When Dr. Lecter had realized that Will was getting too close to figuring out who the actual perpetrator was, he had worked desperately to turn Will's line of thinking down another path. It had almost worked. In the end, Lecter had struggled within himself when it came to finally making the decision to kill him. But any feelings of respect and friendship had been killed the moment Will had thrust those arrows into him before shooting him and he had known he was caught.  
  
As he cried soundlessly, Hannibal Lecter could not deny that he could see how Clarice Starling had fallen for Will Graham and it broke his heart. He turned back to look at Clarice and in an instant he knew what he must do. He could fool himself no longer, she did not love him and she probably never would, her upbringing and training would make certain of it. But if Dr. Lecter could not have her, he would make certain that Will Graham could not either. Clarice had already turned back over and delved further into sleep, the sedative working its magic. Through his tears, Dr. Lecter kissed the top of her head lightly and bid Clarice Starling a fond farewell.  
  
To be continued. Please review!  
  
Shattered (AKA Faithful Reviewer and POI Junkie!): Thanks for the compliment, it's my job as a writer to keep you guessing until the end right?! And we are nearing the end, just a few more chapters. Thank you so much for your review.  
  
DevilsQT: LOL, gee I did not realize it was the GD I was being mean to in that chapter! I thought it was Clarice and Will (especially Will!). But I'm glad you're enjoying the story. As far as a "good ending" it will all depend on what you consider a good ending which I can imagine is for Hannibal and Clarice to end up together. You'll just have to stay tuned and see what happens! Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Dark Topaz: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing.  
  
ducki: Yes, I hate it also when men kiss and tell (or anyone for that matter) but keep in mind he was trying to save his son and being a parent myself, I can understand that completely. I'm glad you're enjoying the story and thanks for reviewing.  
  
Kurt: Yeah I don't know the plural for nemesis! But yes, they do make good ones. And no, the GD is not a warm fuzzy bunny which is something we all tend to forget from time to time. Hmmm, seems to me we recently had this discussion on lecterphiles!! Severed head as a gift? Well not quite. At least not this chapter anyway! LOL! Thanks for reading and reviewing.  
  
Nan: LMAO at your review! I like that, "leapin lizards!" That's as good as LoT's "Yowsers!" Yes, I thought that cliffie would be a good one. "the cliffie of ALL cliffies!!" LOL, thank you!  
  
LoT: Yes, I have taken some lessons at the school of Darth Poobah! And you are not alone in your desire to see Will dead, there are a few other reviewers who have voiced similar opinions! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing.  
  
sanshi: Thank you so very much for your compliments. Yes, I have tried hard to portray the GD in a more real light and I'm glad that many of you agree. And also, thank you for complimenting my writing style, it means a lot to me. Thanks for reading and reviewing.  
  
Morbid: LOL, well, I don't think I'm going to comment on all of your reviews since you just began the story! But I will say this: thank you so much, your reviews are wonderful, I love them! And no, I don't think they are too long. Fear not, we will see more of Josh Graham next chapter so stay tuned! But I cannot tell you his fate! 


	19. Chapter 19: Revelations

Chapter 19: Revelations  
  
Clarice Starling woke up at 11am the next morning and felt as if she'd had too much to drink the night before. Her head ached slightly at her temples, her throat was dry, and her limbs were stiff and heavy. Despite these ailments, however, her mind felt rested and ready to tackle the task of helping to find Will and Joshua Graham. And she could not believe that she had slept for almost twelve hours.  
  
In the shower, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the tile as the warm water ran over her, stimulating her blood flow and waking her up. Her mind was beginning to clear even more and the words from Dr. Lecter's note ran continuously through the back of her subconscious, always working. She was anxious to check in with Violent Crimes to see if they had had any luck in solving the riddle or if there had been any other developments during the night as she had slept. Clarice swiveled her neck around to work the kinks out of it and felt a dull ache on the right side of her neck. It ached as if she had been bruised but she passed it off as having slept on it awkwardly and went about finishing up with her shower.  
  
After she had dried off and dressed in a pair of comfortable khakis and a black pullover sweater, Clarice removed the towel from her head and wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror with one hand to begin brushing out her hair. As she lifted the brush she stopped suddenly, gazing at her reflection as she noticed a welt on the right side of her neck. She put the brush back down, rubbed the mirror even more to clear it and leaned in for a closer look. In the midst of the creamy porcelain skin on her neck was a small, deep scarlet, slightly raised welt. The more she examined it the more she thought it looked like a hickey. Her neck ached as if it had been sucked on for either a very long time or very hard or both.  
  
Clarice's brow furrowed. "How did that get there?" she softly asked her reflection.  
  
She vaguely remembered waking slightly at some point last night and the memories of a dream tugged at her mind. Yes, she had had a dream about Will last night, now she remembered. He had kissed her and run his hands along her body and she had wanted him so badly. It had seemed so real as if he had actually been there with her, as if she had really felt his lips on her, his hands on her. She looked at the red mark closer.  
  
'But dreams don't give real hickeys, Clarice,' she told herself as she stared at her reflection and suddenly her eyes widened in horror.  
  
"Oh God, no," she whispered and shook her head.  
  
The only thing that made sense was that Dr. Hannibal Lecter had paid her another visit last night while she had been sedated and alone. Then it must have been him that had kissed her and touched her and marked her. Clarice closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She wracked her memory to remember if in her 'dream' last night they had actually made love but she could not remember. Her body did not feel as if she had; it was stiff and sore, yes, but in all the wrong places and she knew that was due to sleeping hard. She fervently hoped that while she had been essentially passed out the doctor had not taken full advantage of her.  
  
Angrily, Clarice strode back into her bedroom, stripped off the black sweater as she went and pulled a dark green turtleneck from her closet that would hide her neck. As she thrust it over her head she felt violated and used as if she were a mere plaything or an object to be owned. By the time Clarice Starling had finished grooming and was ready to leave, her anger had only increased to the point where she was practically shaking with fury and she knew with a certainty that if she saw Hannibal Lecter anytime soon she would kill him both for what he had done to Will and for what he had done to her.  
  
Will Graham groaned and slowly regained consciousness. He was lying on his back on a hard cold surface and figured that he was probably back in his cell. He had thankfully passed out shortly after Dr. Lecter had brought the hatchet down through his finger. He lay now with his blood-crusted eyelids closed and felt the pain coursing through his body. His ribs, face, and broken nose had resigned themselves to a dull persistent ache as long as he did not move much. But it was his left hand that continued to cause him the biggest amount of misery.  
  
His hand felt heavy as if there were something attached to it. The pain emitting from it was a burning pain now instead of the initial shocking, teeth gritting pain that had flared up his arm after Dr. Lecter had removed his finger. He slowly turned his head to the left and forced his eyelids to open. His vision blurred but he could see that his hand was bound in an Ace bandage wrap and his hand appeared to be double its normal size. Then he decided the wrap must be enclosing a bag of ice used to staunch the flow of blood where he was now missing a finger. That explained the burning feeling, his hand was numb. He also noticed that he was indeed lying on the floor and he had been deposited just inside the door of the cell, close to the wall in between him and Josh.  
  
Will groaned once more and his parched throat began to tickle for lack of moisture. He coughed harshly three times, a deep barking cough, each movement causing his ribs to jar against one another and he grimaced, closing his eyes again.  
  
"Dad?" He heard Josh call urgently and he heard his son's voice broken with tears. "Dad are you okay? Talk to me."  
  
Will's mouth worked but it was a moment or two before he found his voice.  
  
"I'm okay Josh," he croaked. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you at all?"  
  
"No, he left right after he put you back in there," Josh paused and Will heard him break down again. "Oh my God, Dad, what the hell is going on? Why is he doing this? Who the fuck is he?"  
  
"That's Hannibal Lecter son," Will rasped. "He's pissed off because I was trying to capture him again. It's my fault once again that you got dragged into this and I'm so sorry Josh."  
  
Joshua continued to cry, huddled against the wall of his cell, knees drawn up protectively close to his body, and his arms wrapped around them. He had heard all of the stories about Dr. Lecter and his father as he had grown up. He vaguely remembered visiting his father in the hospital after he had been stabbed by Dr. Lecter, the tubes and hoses coming out of his father had scared him to death. He had been very young. Then he remembered his parents' fights after his dad had come home from the hospital; apparently his father had not wanted Josh to see him like that but his mother had insisted on taking him. Over the last few years since the divorce, Josh had been able to piece together bits and pieces of what his father had gone through with Hannibal Lecter by looking up old 'Tattler' articles on the Internet. His mother refused to talk about it, any time Josh had asked her to tell him about his father, she had given him a strained look and remained silent. At last, Josh's tears were spent and he wiped his face.  
  
"Dad," Josh replied quietly.  
  
"Hmm?" Will groaned.  
  
"What about that girl though? You said something to Dr. Lecter about having slept with someone," Josh said quietly. "Please tell me this isn't over some girl. That doesn't make any sense."  
  
Will sighed. This was not a discussion he wanted to be having with his son right now. He cleared his throat so he could speak more clearly and decided to give him the short and simple version of the story. "Dr. Lecter is fascinated by a certain female FBI agent. Oh hell, you could say he's pretty much obsessed with her," Will paused. "And yes, I slept with her."  
  
"Did you mean all those terrible things you said about her Dad?" Josh asked hesitantly.  
  
Will opened his eyes instantly and stared at the ceiling. "No, son, I did not. Not in the slightest. To be honest I care about her a lot. I only said those things to get him to come after me and leave you alone."  
  
Will heard Josh sigh. He wished he could see his son, wished he could touch him, take him in his arms, and hold him. Will had missed so much of his son's life through his own stupid mistakes and choices and it was his one major regret in life.  
  
"Listen Joshua," Will said quietly. "I want you to know how truly sorry I am for fucking up your life so badly. You may not believe it but I love you more than anything in the world. You are my son, you are a part of me and I would give anything to be able to go back and do everything differently." Will's own tears now began to course slowly out of his eyes to the floor.  
  
"Dad don't do this," Josh pleaded. "I don't understand everything that happened when I was growing up or everything you went through but don't beat yourself up over it. I love you and I miss you and when we get out of here we are going to sit down and have a very long talk."  
  
"Sure son," Will replied quietly and carefully wiped his face with his right hand so as not to aggravate his ribs. He did not add his thoughts that they would not be getting out of here except in body bags.  
  
The two Grahams were silent for awhile and Will began to slip back into unconsciousness until the sound of Josh's voice brought him back.  
  
"Mom misses you too," Josh all but whispered.  
  
For years after she had left Will had ached to hear those words, to hear that Molly would take him back but he had come to realize that she was a stranger to him now and he knew that they would never work together. They would never be able to find the love they had once shared, there was too much hurt between them and too many unsettled issues. Josh thought his father had not heard him and was about to repeat his statement louder when Will spoke.  
  
"I've missed her too son," he said quietly, his eyes still closed.  
  
"Maybe when we get out of here you two could make things work out," Josh said excitedly, sitting up straight, and smiling for the first time in days.  
  
"I don't think so Josh," Will paused. "I loved your Mom for years but I don't think we would be happy together anymore. I'm sorry."  
  
Josh slumped back against the wall of his cell. Like most children of divorced parents, one of his biggest hopes and wishes in life was that someday, somehow, his parents could work things out and get back together again. But Joshua was also old enough to understand that sometimes people just could not live with each other anymore.  
  
"Do you love her?" Josh asked carefully as he laid his head back down on his knees.  
  
Will thought he meant Molly and took a deep breath. "Who?"  
  
"That girl you slept with. The one Dr. Lecter wants."  
  
Will paused and thought long and hard about his son's question. Until today he had not really thought about it. But now, having been torn away from Clarice, facing the fact that he would never see her again, he nodded slowly despite the fact that Josh could not see him.  
  
"I think so Josh," he said quietly.  
  
"Does she know?"  
  
"No," Will said regretfully. "She doesn't."  
  
"You'll have to tell her."  
  
Will smiled slightly at his son's blissful naivete that they would actually get out of here alive. "Tell me about you, Josh," Will said. "What have you been up to?"  
  
For the next hour or so, Will Graham listened contentedly with his eyes closed to his son's voice as Joshua happily told him about his school, about his basketball team, about his scholarship, about his grandparents' horse Lightning who was actually still alive, and about his girlfriend.  
  
"She's gorgeous Dad," Josh smiled. "You should just see her. Her name is Michelle and she's got this beautiful blonde hair and absolutely stunning blue eyes," he paused and smiled from ear to ear as he pictured her. "She's got this cute little accent 'cuz she just moved to Oregon from West Virginia, I love to listen to her talk. And I absolutely love to run up the court during a game, glance over, and see her watching me. I always give her a wink and she grins."  
  
Will smiled to himself again. "It sounds like you're smitten there Josh. She sounds amazing. I'm very happy for you."  
  
"She's already making plans for Prom and that isn't even until spring," Josh laughed. "But that's okay. It's weird but I find that I just want to be around her all the time, like I can't get enough of her. I've never felt like this before. Does that make any sense?"  
  
"Yes it does," Will replied. "And it's a good feeling. Now Josh, you make sure you're treating her right okay?"  
  
"Yes Dad," Josh sighed. "I'm a perfect gentleman and all that other stuff Mom has told me about. I open doors for her and carry her books and stuff like that."  
  
Will smiled again. It was nice to be talking about this with Josh, to be able to connect with him. He could almost delude himself that they had a normal father-son relationship instead of sitting in a dungeon awaiting their sociopathic keeper's return. He began to slip into his son's line of thinking that they actually stood a chance of getting out of here. "I don't mean just that son. That is important but I mean you also don't disrespect her and you always need to be gentle around her."  
  
"Yeah, of course," Josh said.  
  
"And you're being careful," Will paused. "I mean sexually?"  
  
"Dad!" Josh exclaimed. "God! I can't believe you just asked me that!"  
  
"Well are you?" Will persisted. "The last thing that girl or you need is a baby. And I'm not going to sit here and disillusion myself into thinking that you haven't done anything with her. Shit, I remember being 17."  
  
Josh grinned. He could not believe his father, whom he had not seen in years, was talking to him about sex. Here they were, sitting in a dungeon, his father was covered in dried blood, had two broken ribs, and a finger missing and they were talking as if everything were normal. "Well, I don't know," he said embarrassed. "Mom's sort of talked to me about it and I mean, okay, we've done a few things but we haven't like had sex yet or anything. Probably on Prom night though. That seems to be the indication I'm getting from Michelle."  
  
'Ah yes,' Will thought, 'infamous Prom nights.' He chuckled to himself and then grimaced as his ribs grated together and sent pain shooting through his chest. He clutched at it and clenched his eyes tightly. It was a moment before he could speak again.  
  
"Well just as long as you're good to her and treat her well," Will replied. "And remember, if you ever need to talk about anything, I'm always here."  
  
"I know Dad, and thanks."  
  
They were silent again for a while and Will began to doze. Josh could hear his father's wheezing breathing and wished there was something, anything he could do to get them out of here. He was not sure exactly how injured his father was but he knew it was pretty badly. Josh knew he should try to sleep as well, in the last several days he had had little if any sleep. He lay down with his back up against the wall, knees drawn up, hands curled under his head on the cold floor and closed his eyes. He was unsure how long he lay like that before his eyes snapped open as he heard footsteps in the hall outside the cell. He raised his head and watched Hannibal Lecter walk by without a glance in Josh's direction.  
  
Dr. Lecter peered at Will through the glass and saw his chest rising and falling slowly in sleep. At least he was still alive, Dr. Lecter mused. It was amazing what one could put the human body through and still live. But his life would end soon. In his weakened state, he would not be able to endure his final punishment. Dr. Lecter stared down at him lying on the floor, arms over his chest, and thought how Will Graham's death would affect Clarice. He knew she would be deeply hurt and would probably hate him for the rest of her life but after his realizations last night that she would never love him, it did not matter. Besides, he had come too far and made too many plans to stop now. He had two choices, either kill Will or kill himself for he knew they would never be able to live in the same world without trying to kill one another. What was that old phrase; 'this town ain't big enough for the two of us?' Dr. Lecter smiled dryly.  
  
"Dr. Lecter?" Joshua Graham asked quietly. He had crawled to the front of the cell and kneeled before the bars, hands clasped in his lap.  
  
Lecter turned his ice blue eyes to regard him and tilted his head slightly. "What is it young Graham?"  
  
"Can I just ask you something?"  
  
Dr. Lecter was pleased that the young man was being so polite and decided that surely it must have been his mother's doing. He stared at the boy and found himself looking into the face of the boy's father, Will Graham. It was almost uncanny how much he resembled his father. Dr. Lecter sighed inwardly and wondered what his own son might have looked like had he had one.  
  
"Go ahead," Lecter nodded slightly, indulging the boy.  
  
"I mean no offense, sir," Josh's voice trembled slightly. "But I'm confused. If you're angry at my dad for having slept with the woman you want for yourself then how is all of this going to turn her affections to you? I mean, if she cares about my dad and you hurt him, do you really think she'll ever forgive you for it?"  
  
Dr. Lecter smiled thinly, it was the exact thought he had had during the night at Clarice Starling's home. And he knew the answer.  
  
"No, young Graham," he replied quietly. "I know she will never forgive me."  
  
"Then why can't you just let us go?" Josh asked innocently.  
  
"It's simple really," Dr. Lecter smiled evilly at Josh. "If I cannot have her then I will make damn sure your father cannot either." He moved away from the cell in the direction of the chair outside of Will's cell.  
  
"Wait, please," Joshua pleaded, standing up and gripping the bars. "Please don't do this! Please!"  
  
Hannibal Lecter picked up the rope that lay on the floor next to the chair, unrolled it, threw one end up and over the beam near the ceiling, and tied a slip knot, pulling it until the rope was tied tautly around the beam. He strode to Will's cell, pulled the keys out of his pocket and opened the door.  
  
"No, please, stop!" Joshua begged and fresh tears began to slip down his cheeks. "I'm begging you, Dr. Lecter, please."  
  
He ignored the boy and walked over to where Will Graham lay. He bent down, grabbed the man under his arms, and pulled him roughly to his feet.  
  
"Fuck!" Will yelped as his ribs awakened with a fresh burst of pain and he was forced from his unconscious state.  
  
Hannibal Lecter supported Will's weight fully and half-carried, half-pulled him out to where the rope hung suspended from the rafters. He stood on his tiptoes to reach the loose end of the rope, lifted Will's arms up slightly, and tied the rope securely around both of Will's wrists, binding them together. Will groaned as his ribs continued to grate together and his hand let out a fresh burst of agony. His legs would not support him but the rope kept him upright.  
  
"Hey you asshole," Josh called. "Why don't you pick on someone who actually has a chance at fighting back? You shit."  
  
Dr. Lecter glanced at the boy. It was amusing that the boy was attempting to goad him just as his father had previously. He chuckled to himself. 'Like father, like son,' he thought. 'So much for his politeness.'  
  
"All in good time, my dear young Graham, all in good time."  
  
"God, stop this!" Joshua yelled.  
  
Hannibal Lecter left Will Graham bound by the rope and walked back up the hallway. Will slipped in and out of consciousness, preferring the latter to the former. He could hear Joshua calling him but he had no strength to look at him or answer him. Then he could hear Lecter's footsteps returning.  
  
"Remember yesterday when we initially spoke of the betrayal and crucifixion of saviors, Will?" He asked merrily as if this were all highly amusing fun.  
  
'Shit,' Will thought but said nothing. 'God please just let it be quick.'  
  
Dr. Lecter turned to look at Josh and winked at him. Joshua stared back, wide-eyed, horror etched on his face at what he saw in the doctor's hand but he remained silent.  
  
"Well Will, you've been betrayed, and now you must be crucified."  
  
The words did not register in Will's mind for he had slipped mercifully once more into unconsciousness. Dr. Lecter walked around behind him, pulled a pocket knife from his back pocket, opened it, and sliced Will's tee-shirt up the back. Dr. Lecter pulled it roughly from his body and Will groaned, conscious once again.  
  
"Please, Dr. Lecter," Joshua whimpered from his cell. "Please don't do this. Please."  
  
Dr. Lecter ignored him, stood up straight, and uncurled the whip he held in his hand.  
  
"It is time for your scourging savior."  
  
Dr. Lecter raised the whip and brought it down hard onto Will's back with a sharp snap. Will Graham's screams reverberated off the stone walls and mingled with his son's agonized screams.  
On the drive into work, Clarice Starling's autonomous skills took over, the traffic and signals around her barely registering as her mind focused on the riddle of Dr. Lecter's note. The rumbling of her Mustang's engine lulled her into a type of trance as the words repeated over and over in her head. She had been repeating the rhyme all morning, even as she had fumed over Dr. Lecter's indiscretions of the night before. She repeated it once more now.  
  
'Clarice and Will went up a hill, to fetch Dr. Lecter but alas, Will fell down, FBI savior uncrowned, and...' her train of thought trailed off. 'Wait a minute. Savior. FBI savior. I've heard that somewhere before. Savior. FBI savior,' her mind repeated the two words over and over. All of a sudden, it clicked. 'Savior. Will told me that Kendra referred to him as the savior of Behavioral Science the first day he was here.' Clarice's brow furrowed. 'Hmm, both Kendra and Dr. Lecter refer to him as a savior in the space of a few weeks. That's an awful coincidence.' She contemplated the horrendous thought that worked its way into her brain. 'Or is it?'  
  
Clarice drove quickly the rest of the way to the FBI, swerving in and out of the unusually heavy Sunday traffic, impatience etched all over her face. Once inside the nearly deserted FBI Headquarters, Clarice raced to Kendra Mitchell's office. She opened the door to Kendra's office without knocking and walked in.  
  
Kendra Mitchell looked up from her desk and frowned. "Excuse me, Agent Starling," she snapped angrily. "You don't just come barging in here without knocking."  
  
"I'm having a problem with something Agent Mitchell," Clarice replied, ignoring the woman's irritation at her intrusion, brushing her hair back from her face. "And maybe you can clarify it for me."  
  
Kendra just glared at Clarice and remained silent, tapping her pen impatiently on the desk.  
  
"Maybe you can explain to me how both you and Dr. Lecter have managed at separate times within the last few weeks to call Agent Graham a savior." Clarice inquired.  
  
"How the fuck should I know, Starling?" Kendra quipped. "Look, I'm extremely busy. If you haven't noticed, I've got an agent missing..."  
  
"Have you been in contact with Dr. Lecter, Agent Mitchell," Clarice interrupted her quietly.  
  
Clarice saw the other woman's eyes widen ever so slightly. The two women stared at one another for a moment.  
  
"You've officially lost your mind Clarice," Kendra said quietly.  
  
"Answer my question Kendra," Clarice demanded evenly and took a step toward the desk. "Have you been in contact with Dr. Lecter?"  
  
"Absolutely not," Kendra replied smoothly.  
  
"You set this whole thing up with him didn't you?" Clarice pressed.  
  
"No," Kendra replied adamantly. "This is ludicrous. I can't believe you are actually accusing me of plotting with a serial killer. You really are certifiable Starling."  
  
"Then explain to me why you needed to get Agent Graham out of the office?"  
  
Kendra regarded Clarice with a look of distaste. "As I've stated before Starling," she replied coolly and slowly, as a parent instructing a young child might. "I thought if we met on neutral grounds it would be more conducive to negotiation so we would be able to reach an agreement."  
  
"Hell Kendra," Clarice countered, irritated. "You could've met with him outside the building or in the lunchroom or in the damn elevator for that matter. I don't buy that. Why did you need to get him out of the office?"  
  
"I don't have to sit here and take this abuse from you, Agent Starling," Kendra said angrily. "I don't have to answer to you. If you cannot accept the statement that I've already given then that's your problem. Now let me get back to work." Kendra looked back down to the paperwork on her desk.  
  
Clarice sighed inwardly. She was getting nowhere with Kendra under this line of questioning. She ran her hand distractedly through her hair and decided to try another tactic.  
  
"I know about the tape, Kendra," Clarice said quietly and Kendra's head bobbed back up to look at Clarice. "I know about your sexual proposition to Agent Graham that you would consider his future here at the FBI once he'd slept with you and I know about his subsequent ultimatum saying that he had the conversation on tape and if you did not leave Behavioral Science he would expose you. This was not some 'minor misunderstanding' between the two of you as you have the agents heading up the investigation believing. Given those facts, the fact that you insisted he meet you outside the office, and the two separate references by you and Dr. Lecter to Will being a 'savior' I'd say I've got a pretty good case that you were directly involved with Dr. Hannibal Lecter in the disappearance of Agent Graham."  
  
Kendra stared sullenly at Clarice, anxiety beginning to build within her. "Do you have a copy of Agent Graham's tape?" She asked.  
  
"No," Clarice said quietly.  
  
Kendra Mitchell relaxed and leaned back in her chair. "Then basically it just comes down to your word against mine," Kendra grinned evilly. "Like anyone would believe you, a formerly disgraced agent who has been unable to accomplish anything productive in years, over me, Behavioral Science section chief."  
  
"Just tell me one thing, Kendra," Clarice replied quietly. "Did you really proposition him? And if so, how could you? You're his boss for Chrissake."  
  
Kendra scoffed. "Oh please, Starling, you're so naïve. Yes I propositioned him. You'd be surprised how many of these mousy men will give it up when you throw a little superiority in their faces. They want to be dominated by a strong woman."  
  
"But Agent Graham was different," Clarice said quietly.  
  
Kendra pursed her lips in thought. "Yes I guess."  
  
"And you're not worried about getting caught? What about the tape he had? What if it surfaces?"  
  
Kendra looked carefully at Clarice. She knew this was dangerous ground she was treading on. She was even now still unsure if any tape had even existed but the fact that Clarice said she knew about the tape led Kendra to believe there had actually been one and that Dr. Lecter had been wrong when he had said there was not. Despite her misgivings, if Clarice thought there was a tape then Kendra must make sure she continued believing it. "I watched him destroy it. It won't be surfacing. So once again, it's my word against yours."  
  
"Oh really?" Clarice asked quizzically.  
  
Their eyes locked and Kendra nodded slowly, uncertainty sticking in her gut. "Yes."  
  
"See that's interesting Kendra," Clarice said quietly. "Because Will never actually had a tape," she paused. Kendra's eyes widened and Clarice pulled a small tape recorder out of her jacket pocket. "But now I do."  
  
Kendra glared at her. "You sneaky little bitch. You know it is illegal to tape record someone without their knowledge. I swear to God..."  
  
"Dammit Kendra," Clarice interrupted her loudly. "How could you do this? How could you give Will to Hannibal Lecter?"  
  
"I'm not saying another word Agent Starling," Kendra replied quietly, putting down her pen and turning to look out the window, a blank expression coming over her face.  
  
"I think you need to come downstairs with me and talk about all this with the agents in charge of Will's disappearance." Clarice paused and looked at the blank expression on Kendra's face. "We can either do this the easy way or the hard way," she said firmly.  
  
Kendra's eyes shifted slowly to where Clarice stood, arms crossed defiantly over her chest. This was it. She knew she had been caught. She was going to go to prison, she had just lost everything. A surreal numbness came over her and all she could think about was how she had allowed herself to be played for a fool by Dr. Hannibal Lecter. She nodded slowly.  
  
"Just give me a moment please, Agent Starling," Kendra mumbled. "Please give me a moment to compose myself."  
  
"Come on, Mitchell," Clarice said unsympathetically, "let's go." She turned her back to Kendra and walked to the office door.  
  
Knowing it was finished, her life as she knew it was over, and knowing the things that would happen to her in prison once the word got out that she was a former FBI agent, Kendra nodded blankly and pulled her gun from its holster.  
  
Clarice Starling heard the gun cock. Her eyes widened and she spun around in seeming slow motion, reaching for her own gun. She drew it and turned just in time to see Section Chief Kendra Mitchell blow the back of her own head off, blood, brains, and white flecks of bone splattering the wall behind her as her body slumped over on the desk.  
  
To be continued! Please review.  
  
Kurt: Thank you so much for the kudos, I worked extremely long and hard on the ending of the last chapter with Hannibal and Clarice and I'm glad you liked it. And thank you for the compliment on Will. And I'm glad you picked up on the fact that the GD had actually really liked Will Graham prior to hating him! Thanks for reading and reviewing.  
  
Shattered: LOL, yeah, I don't know what you're going to do with your addiction once this fic is over! There will be a sequel but I think I'm going to take a break from writing for a little while and catch up on other people's fics that I'm dying to read. I'm glad I have the power to render you speechless! Thanks as always for your wonderful reviews.  
  
ducki: I'm sorry you almost choked on your Coke. No wait, I'm not because then that means the chapter was good! J/K! Thank you for reading and reviewing.  
  
ar-men66: Thank you so much for your review, I'm glad you're enjoying the story.  
  
LoT: Hey to my twin sister! LOL! I laughed so hard when I read your review! I think it is certainly possible that we were separated at birth (even with a decade in between us!). I'm so happy you are enjoying the story so much and thanks as always for reading and reviewing.  
  
LittleMy: Thank you for your great review. Yes, I'd be happy to read something you wrote and let you know what I think, just email it to me. Thanks again for reviewing.  
  
Guber: Well if the last chapter was almost like Christmas then I guess that makes me the Grinch (cuz I stole it!)! I know you want H/C together, a lot of people do but you'll have to stay tuned to see what's going to happen. Also, I don't think Clarice necessarily HAS to be in love with Will but she is for a lot of reasons that I've gone into in great depth in the story and I don't feel like repeating here! But I'm so glad you're enjoying the story.  
  
Shifter: Thank you for reading and reviewing, I'm glad the last chapter evoked such emotion in you, that's a huge compliment for me! Thanks again.  
  
Hanni85: Thank you so much for the compliments, I worked very hard on the last chapter and it's touching that you felt the way you did for the GD. As far as him being happy, stay tuned! Thanks again.  
  
EyeSeeU: LOL, torn huh? Yes, I understand how you feel, at times I am a bit torn myself over the whole H/C and W/C thing! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing.  
  
DevilsQT: I'm sorry you hate Will! Thank you though for reading and reviewing and I'm glad you're enjoying the story.  
  
sweetnessspy: Thank you for your review! I'm glad you like the story.  
  
Nan: As always, I loved your review. Thank you so much for the compliments and I'm glad everyone is on 'pins and needles' as they say! Thanks again. 


	20. Chapter 20: Genesis

Chapter 20: Genesis  
  
Clarice Starling sat at her desk, head in her hands, red hair falling around her face, eyes closed, fingers gently massaging her temples. Part of her was wracked with guilt over the suicide of Kendra Mitchell and part of her was relieved that the woman was no longer her boss which then caused her to feel even more guilty. It was cyclical really. But in all actuality, Kendra Mitchell had been on the verge of arrest anyway by the Department of Justice, not for her suspected involvement in the disappearance of Will Graham but for repeated complaints of abuses against her by other agents. Through a covert ongoing investigation, the DOJ had finally compiled enough evidence against her on counts of verbal abuse, physical abuse, and sexual harassment. For the umpteenth time, Clarice told herself that the blood currently being scraped and scrubbed off the wall in Kendra's office was not her fault, Kendra's demise had been coming one way or the other.  
  
Clarice lifted her head, pushed the hair back out of her face, and forced herself to concentrate on the report in front of her. It was an update from Violent Crimes on the analysis of the riddle in Dr. Hannibal Lecter's note that had accompanied Will Graham's severed finger. She had already read it a dozen times and now as she skimmed it again, the words repeated in her head before she even read over them.  
  
"Analysis...ending line...'met his ending at our genesis'...theory that 'our' could be 'r'...18th letter of the alphabet...book of Genesis in the Bible...18th chapter...no relevance found...continuing closer analysis of Genesis...professor of theology at Harvard."  
  
Clarice closed her eyes and beseeched her mind to quiet. Despite the reference by Dr. Lecter to Will's being a savior and the fact that Dr. Lecter enjoyed throwing around religious anecdotes and stories of God's cruelty, Clarice could see no reason why the riddle would contain any religious connotation, Dr. Lecter was not a religious individual and neither were Will or Clarice. She decided there was most likely nothing relevant in the book of Genesis and they would find nothing there to help determine Will and Josh Grahams' whereabouts.  
  
Again, the words to the rhyme ran through her mind. 'Clarice and Will went up a hill to fetch Dr. Lecter but alas, Will fell down, FBI savior uncrowned, and met his ending at our genesis.' Over and over she repeated them. The answer was here, she knew it was, just as Seth had told her. Some of her old confidence was beginning to return; Seth was right, she had to figure this out for Will's and Josh's sakes. She just needed to see it.  
  
As her mind worked the words, shaping and molding them into possible coherence, it was suddenly there on the tip of her tongue. Clarice opened her eyes wide, but they stared, unseeing. At that moment, Seth Williams walked through the door into her office.  
  
"Clarice," he began but she held up one hand to silence him, not even looking in his direction. He closed the door quietly and moved to sit down in 'Will's chair', crossing one leg over the other and resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. He watched her and smiled to himself. Once she was in her trance, there was no stopping her. He had not seen her like this in a very long time and it was good to see it again now.  
  
"Our genesis," she whispered. "Genesis...genesis...genesis means beginning. Whose beginning? Our beginning...our beginning. Our beginning as in humankind?" She shook her head. "No, that's too broad even for Dr. Lecter. Our beginning as in me and Will? Our beginning as in Will and Dr. Lecter?" She paused and shook her head again. "No, no, the note was addressed to me, to me from Dr. Lecter. To me from Dr. Lecter. So...our beginning as in Dr. Lecter and I." And then she had it. She looked up at Seth. "Dr. Lecter and I had our beginning at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane." Clarice smiled and slowly nodded her head. "That's where he's got them," she said excitedly and stood up.  
  
Seth shook his head, his dark face clouding. "It was already searched, Clarice," he said quietly. "The field agents found nothing except a homeless man, rats, and spiders. The care taker said that he had not heard or observed anyone around the grounds in ages. They're not there."  
  
Clarice looked at him and her eyes burned with excitement. "Yes they are," she said fervently. "Think about it. When did the field agents search the premises? Very early Saturday morning," she paused, shuffled through the loose papers on her desk, pulled out one of the sheets and found the information she was looking for. "At 4am. That was just over twelve hours after Will disappeared. Surely Dr. Lecter knew that would be one of the first places they would check. So he waited until they were gone and set up camp there."  
  
"I don't know Clarice," Seth replied dubiously.  
  
"Please help me Seth," Clarice pleaded softly. "Come with me, we'll just check it out and if there's nothing there, we'll move on to the next idea. But I know I'm right, I've got to be right."  
  
Seth Williams smiled at his friend and colleague indulgently. He supposed there would be no harm in accompanying her just to satisfy her curiosity. Besides, it would be good to get out of the office, they had been working so much overtime. He nodded and stood up slowly, stretching his arms up over his head.  
  
"Okay Clarice."  
  
Dr. Hannibal Lecter laid his head down gently on the cot and closed his eyes. He had found the cot down in one of the storage closets on the ground floor and had dusted it off as best he could but an old musty smell filled his nostrils anyway. He sneezed once, rubbed his nose, and curled his arm under his head to keep it off the malodorous cot. He was tired. His weary body demanded a rest so he indulged it.  
  
His keen ears were attuned to even the slightest of noises with in the boarded up hospital. He could hear the rats scurrying along behind the walls on their little rat errands, he could hear the building settle and creak, and he could faintly hear Joshua Graham still screaming obscenities and crying although his voice was growing ever more hoarse and strained from exertion.  
  
Dr. Lecter had amusedly set this cot up in Dr. Chilton's former office although everything personal to the man had long since been removed when he had retired after Lecter's escape in Memphis many years ago. There remained now only a desk, a chair, and two bookcases, all filmed with dust and grime and used now only by spiders and their webs. Dr. Lecter had chosen this spot for his cot because the office overlooked the vast parking lot and he wanted to be sure he could hear any vehicles approaching, especially the distinct rumble of a Mustang's engine.  
  
Abruptly his ears detected only silence and he decided that Joshua Graham must have finally seen the futility of his labored screaming and at last given up. Dr. Lecter decided that he could not really blame the boy for his wails, after all, for several hours he had been sitting strapped into the wooden chair in front of his father's cell and watched as the life slowly ebbed from his father's body and there was nothing he could do about it.  
  
Hannibal Lecter smiled now as he recalled the highlight of his week, the crucifixion of Will Graham. After the scourging, Dr. Lecter had cut the rope from Will's limp, torn and bleeding, unconscious body and had dragged the man back into his cell. From there he had gone to retrieve the two by fours he had procured from his buddy the maintenance man, being careful to lock the door to Will's cell just in case he happened to regain consciousness. He had lugged them easily back down to the dungeon and past Joshua Graham's cell. Joshua had looked at him, terrified that he actually intended to carry out his father's sentence.  
  
Dr. Lecter had once again opened the door to Will's cell and pulled the boards in. Once he had nailed the shorter board near the top of the longer one, he had exited the cell and stood directly in front of Joshua's. Dr. Lecter had tilted his head as he regarded the young man, the dim light of the hallway casting eerie shadows across the man's face. Joshua Graham had stared back wide-eyed but silent.  
  
"Well then, young Graham," Dr. Lecter had rasped. "Are you ready for the show?"  
  
Despite his terror, Josh's stomach had rumbled loudly. It had been nearly two days since he had had anything to eat and he was absolutely famished. Dr. Lecter had smiled broadly.  
  
"The human body is remarkable," he had commented. "Here I am, slowly killing your father in front of your eyes and yet your body responds with hunger pains. Self preservation," Dr. Lecter had smiled, "is an amazing thing."  
  
Joshua had looked at him gloomily but said nothing. Dr. Lecter had gestured for him to come to the front of the cell, holding the electro shock wand in front of him.  
  
"Come on then," he had said. "It's time."  
  
Obediently, Josh had stood up and walked on weakened legs to the door of the cell as Dr. Lecter had unlocked it.  
  
"Now if you try anything," he had warned the boy, "I'll give you one hell of a zap with this, so do not be foolish."  
  
Dr. Lecter had held the wand up in front of Joshua's face and he had been able to hear it humming slightly. He had nodded and Dr. Lecter opened the door. Josh had stepped through and walked past Dr. Lecter. As he did, he had made a sudden turn and brought his right fist crashing into the doctor's face. Startled, Dr. Lecter had stumbled backward, clutched his nose with his left hand, and raised the electro shock wand in his right. Joshua had immediately lunged for Dr. Lecter and ducked to avoid the wand. Moving quickly, Dr. Lecter had redirected the wand and caught Joshua Graham directly in the gut before he had been able to get his hands on the doctor. Electricity had coursed through the young man's malnourished body and he crumpled instantly to the floor, groaning.  
  
Dr. Lecter had swiped the blood that trickled from his nose and clucked his tongue at the boy. Joshua had lain on the floor, involuntarily shaking from the jolt.  
  
"Joshua, that was unwise," Dr. Lecter had replied coolly. "Now get up and sit in the chair."  
  
Josh had slowly rolled over and risen up on his hands and knees, much the way his father had previously before Lecter had kicked him in the ribs. Dr. Lecter had eyed him disdainfully and watched as the boy stood up on his shaky legs. Joshua had never felt anything like that before and it had seemed he could feel every muscle in his body quivering. He had stumbled to the chair and sat down heavily, exhaling. Dr. Lecter had strapped his arms and legs down firmly, put the wand back on the floor, picked up the nail gun, and had walked back into Will's cell.  
  
"Please don't do this," Joshua had pleaded quietly, tears beginning to course down his cheeks once more. "I beg you, please. He's had enough just leave him be. Use me instead. Please."  
  
Dr. Lecter had ignored him although he was surprised that the boy was hydrated enough to still produce tears. And he had thought it rather touching that Joshua was attempting to protect the father he had not seen in years. As a psychiatrist he had always been fascinated by the intense familial sense of duty most human beings had engrained into them from birth. He had walked to where Will lay next to the two boards and saw that he was beginning to regain consciousness again.  
  
'Excellent,' Dr. Lecter had thought and smiled. 'This will be too perfect. I would prefer him to be awake for this.'  
  
Will Graham had groaned and had slowly shaken his head from side to side as if trying to clear away a horrible nightmare. Dr. Lecter had roughly pulled him up onto the boards so that he was lying on the vertical one and cut his pants from off him with his pocket knife so he had been clad only in his boxer shorts. Lecter had then moved to Will's right side and lifted his arm up to the two by four nailed to the top of the other board. He had been able to hear the man's broken ribs pop and grate at the motion. As Dr. Lecter had picked up the nail gun, Joshua had begun to scream at him and Will had opened his eyes.  
  
"Fuck you Lecter," Will had whispered hoarsely, his bleary, misery-filled eyes had met Dr. Lecter's.  
  
Dr. Lecter had smiled down cruelly at the man and positioned the nail gun in the center of Will's wrist. Now as he lay on the cot, Dr. Lecter remembered the sounds as he had nailed Will Graham to his 'cross' and he smiled softly. The report of the nail gun as he had pressed the trigger, the sound of the nail breaking bones and snapping tendons as it had driven through Will's wrist into the wood underneath, and the sound of both Grahams once again screaming simultaneously. Mercifully for him, Will Graham had passed out for what Dr. Lecter suspected was the final time after he had nailed the man's other wrist down before moving down to his feet.  
  
Now Dr. Lecter lay still on the cot and closed his eyes. His merriment was basically over and the adrenaline that had coursed through his body as he had performed his amusements was gone, leaving in its wake a cold, bitter melancholy. Lecter turned introspective and thought of how he had lost everything that mattered to him within the last week; his home, his belongings, his sense of security, his protégé, Zachary Matthews, but most of all, his goddess, Clarice Starling. After he had left her home last night, a large part of him had considered taking his own life, feeling he had nothing left worth living for, and merely leaving the two Grahams to a morbid, painful death of starvation. In the end, however, his desire to inflict intense pain on Will, to make him suffer, had finally won out over his loss of the will to live.  
  
However, now, his work with Will was done and suicidal thoughts crept silently back into Dr. Lecter's mind. He sighed, opened his eyes, and his line of vision fell upon the gun lying on the desk next to his cot. It was Will's .45 and the man's FBI badge and ID lay next to it. Dr. Lecter thought how easy it would be to just slip the barrel into his mouth, point it up toward the top of his head, and just pull the trigger.  
  
'So what's stopping you Hannibal?' he asked himself bitterly. "Do it. Kill yourself and shed the robes of this tortured existence.'  
  
But Hannibal Lecter had always believed suicide to be the coward's way out. He had always been a strong-spirited, strong-willed man and his self preservation had always been stalwart. But over the last few years he had found himself coming to detest the life he had ultimately chosen and what he had become. He had found himself longing for a more normal, mainstream life, a home and family. Dr. Lecter had always been something of a loner but now every fiber of his being ached to share life with a loving, responsive partner and to possibly have offspring, to leave his mark on the world. But the decisions made earlier in his life now made that desire unattainable.  
  
He sighed again and knew that Clarice Starling should be showing up at the Baltimore hospital anytime soon, the clue provided in his note to her had been entirely too transparent so that she would indeed be able to find them, although not in time to save Will, of that he would make certain. Hannibal Lecter knew that while he was still being actively hunted by the FBI he would never be able to pursue the life he wanted so desperately and a plan now began to take shape in his fevered mind. As his mind worked the idea, shaping and molding it, Hannibal Lecter felt a feeling of calm and assurance wash over him, all former feelings of suicide banished.  
  
He sat up and looked at his watch. If he was going to set his new plan into motion, he needed to hurry. He picked up Will's gun off the desk and tucked it into the rear waistband of his jeans under his shirt.  
Later that afternoon, Clarice Starling and Seth Williams sat inside the car and stared up at the seemingly deserted Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, the sun glinted dully off the dust encrusted windows. Clarice turned off the Mustang's engine and sat back in her seat. They sat stoic, listening to the birds calling and the distant traffic from the highway. This building was cloaked in memories for her, both painful and uplifting, and she felt apprehension and dread wash over her at the prospect of having to enter it one more time.  
  
The last time she had entered the hospital had been just over five years ago when she had come here in search of clues as to Dr. Lecter's whereabouts. She had carried only a small flashlight with her that had hardly penetrated the pitch blackness of the abandoned hospital. The absolute quiet had rung in her ears, almost deafening in its infiniteness. She had first checked the main office and found that Dr. Lecter's patient files had been picked through and completely cleared out. She remembered now how she had screwed her courage and ventured down into the dungeon where his former cell was.  
  
'I'll be watching. You'll do fine,' Barney's words had echoed in her ears as she had made her way through the outer gate into the pitch of the hallway she knew so well.  
  
She remembered the dust and filth that had covered the entire place but as she had approached his cell, she had seen the surroundings only as clean and sterile, and suddenly she had no longer been a veteran, hardened FBI agent but a young, naïve trainee all over again, approaching Dr. Hannibal 'the Cannibal' Lecter's cell for the very first time.  
  
Clarice had walked slowly up the hallway, habitually staying close to the far wall, keeping her eyes trained on the small circle of light from the flashlight, afraid to deviate, afraid to peer earnestly into the cells she was passing as she once had so long ago lest she see faces, like ghosts from the past, peering back at her through the bars. She had approached Dr. Lecter's former cell and she noticed that for some odd reason, the chair she had occupied the first time all those years ago was still sitting forlornly in front of the abandoned cell as if awaiting her return. She had shone her light into his cell through the bullet proof glass and slowly neared it. As she did, she had flashed back to the vision of Dr. Lecter as she had seen him that very first time, standing rigidly straight, hands cupped at his sides, his crystal eyes watching her slightest movement as she came into his line of vision, a faint smile playing across his lips and in that moment, Clarice Starling had caught her breath and closed her eyes to will the image away.  
  
Inside his cell she had found nothing of use and she remembered now how the homeless man with the long straggly white hair and matted beard had literally nearly given her a heart attack. She had been standing in the midst of Dr. Lecter's cell, shining her meager light about and finding nothing of his former personal belongings left. She had closed her eyes briefly to connect with the Good Doctor and she had been able to sense him in the room with her. In her mind she had seen him smile in that demonic yet restrained style of his and reach his hand out to touch her. Then she had realized that she could actually hear the shuffle of feet as he came closer and could hear his breathing. Her eyes had snapped open, hand resting on her gun, and she had spun around shining the flashlight into the ancient face of the homeless man. He had asked if she was Jesus Christ and she had calmly and politely replied no, she was not. Clarice had fled the hospital and had gulped for breath once she'd returned to the outside world, her emotions at reliving her first encounter with Hannibal Lecter threatening to overtake her.  
  
Seth Williams now turned to look at her and wondered about all of the emotions and thoughts that must surely be swirling through Clarice Starling's head right now. He had never met Dr. Lecter personally nor had he ever set foot into the Baltimore hospital but quiet conversations with Clarice had painted a fairly decent picture within his mind of their encounters here. He wondered if she really intended to step foot into the building but then he shook his head. Knowing Clarice like he did, he knew she was tough and there was not much that would deter her once her mind was set on something.  
  
Clarice felt his eyes on her and she glanced in Seth's direction. He could read the apprehension in her eyes and smiled gently.  
  
"Come on, let's check it out," he said. "You can give me the grand tour." He paused. "You know, we could probably make a killing if we turned this place into a tourist attraction. I can see it now, 'Hannibal Land.'"  
  
Clarice chuckled dryly and was so delighted that Seth had agreed to come with her. They exited the car, Clarice pulled two flashlights from the trunk, and she tossed one to him. She glanced over at the trailer of the groundskeeper but saw no sign of him. She pondered knocking on his door and seeing if he had any information but then she remembered when she had been here the last time how little help he had been and she decided against it.  
  
The two agents entered the building and were hit by a musty, ancient smell and it took them a moment to get used to it. They stood still just inside the door and listened. Clarice closed her eyes and took a deep breath, searching for any sense of a disturbance within the building but neither agent felt anything. Clarice turned and headed for the stairs with Seth immediately trailing her.  
Dr. Hannibal Lecter removed the needle from Joshua Graham's arm and watched as the boy's eyes rolled back up into his head and the lids closed slowly. He smiled and roughly pulled the thick band of rubber from around the boy's arm with a snap, dropping both the needle and the band to the ground. Dr. Lecter had just injected 500mg of heroin into Joshua's bloodstream which was more than double the lethal dose for a non-tolerant individual. He assumed the boy was not a drug addict like his father and he knew the dose should kill Joshua within a few minutes.  
  
He had heard Clarice Starling's Mustang pull into the parking lot and had rushed to finish his plans. He now could hear two sets of feet on the concrete stairs that led down into the dungeon and his heart suddenly skipped a beat at the possibility of exchanging niceties with Clarice again; he had not actually had a two way conversation with her since Paul Krendler's dinner party five years ago.  
  
He pulled the .45 out of the waistband of his pants, stood in the open door to Will's cell, and pointed the gun directly in Will's direction. He did not go into the cell in case Clarice made it down the stairs before he had the chance to pull the trigger; she would not be able to see Will from her vantage point and he preferred to keep it that way for the time being. Will Graham was unbelievably still alive, albeit barely, and Dr. Lecter could not take the chance that he might actually live.  
  
'Damn bastard just will not die,' he thought grimly.  
  
Dr. Lecter raised the gun to shoulder level and as he did, Clarice Starling ran into the hallway, her own gun held out in front of her with both hands and pointed it at Dr. Lecter. Behind her Seth Williams trotted in, his gun drawn as well, and he gasped at the sight of Joshua Graham strapped to the chair, head lolled back, eyes closed. Clarice gulped at the sight of Hannibal Lecter. He might have been visiting her regularly at night but she had not seen him since he had pinned her against the refrigerator. In that instant, a thousand emotions rushed through her; hate, anger, lust, fear, joy, love, and more, each one barely registering in her heart as they swirled through her. She was torn between her utter hatred for him and her caring for him and she wondered, not for the first time and probably not for the last time, how it was possible to both love and hate someone equally intensely. She loved him as she would love a father. She loved him for assisting her, for caring for her, and for teaching her. And she hated him. She hated him for abusing her trust, for his horrendous crimes, and for taking Will away from her. All these thoughts ran through Clarice Starling's mind within a matter of seconds and she blinked suddenly to refocus on the figure before her.  
  
Dr. Lecter gazed patiently at her with his intense blue eyes, a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth, as if he could read her every thought. She supposed he almost could, he had always seemed to be able to. Clarice Starling had never been able to hide from Dr. Lecter, neither physically nor emotionally.  
  
"Hello Clarice," Dr. Lecter breathed, drawing out the 's' sound on the ending c as he always did. "Ironic reunion don't you think?"  
  
He continued to hold the gun straight out in front of him, pointing into the cell although from her vantage point further up the hallway, Clarice could not see into the farthest cell to see whom he was aiming at but she could guess. Her gaze flitted to the individual strapped into the wooden chair and she decided that must be Joshua Graham. Then almost instantly, she could make out the resemblance to Will and she knew for a certainty that is who he was. That meant Will must be in the cell. That meant Dr. Lecter must be pointing the gun at Will. Fleetingly, she wondered why she had not heard Will call out to her yet. Behind her, Seth pointed his gun at Dr. Lecter as well but followed Clarice's lead. He watched them regard one another and the intensity between them was electric.  
  
"Put it down, Doctor," she stated calmly and was pleasantly surprised to hear no quiver in her voice as her eyes moved back to regard Dr. Lecter. "Don't make this hard, just put the gun down."  
  
Dr. Lecter regarded her calmly for a moment. "Would you kill me Clarice?" He mused softly.  
  
"To protect a victim, if I had to, yes," she answered instantly and unwaiveringly, her gun remaining trained on him.  
  
"Ah yes," Dr. Lecter nodded slowly. "If you could save just one then your nights would be silent, eh Clarice?"  
  
She knew he was trying to buy time, he was trying to distract her. "Put the gun down, Doctor."  
  
"But Will is more than a mere 'victim' isn't he? He is your lover," Dr. Lecter smiled but a trace of sadness edged onto his face. "This has become personal for you Clarice."  
  
'As it has for you Doctor,' she thought but did not voice it. Clarice shifted her weight from foot to foot and butterflies began to swarm within her stomach. He was wasting time; he was playing with her as a cat would play with a mouse before ripping its head off and devouring it whole. She slowly slid forward two steps.  
  
"With me every victim is personal," Clarice replied quietly and paused. "You of all people should know that about me."  
  
"Ah yes," Dr. Lecter said again. For him, there was only her in the room, all else was shadows and dust, there was only her; the smell of her, the sound of her, the look of her. "Now you speak of our past Clarice," he paused and smiled playfully at her. "But what of our future?"  
  
"All I care about right now is the present, Dr. Lecter. This is the last time I will ask you to drop the gun," she said, and sounded more authoritative than she felt.  
  
Clarice Starling did not want to shoot him and she knew that he knew that. Her eyes slid to Josh Graham and she could not tell if he was breathing. Additionally, assuming that Will was the one that Dr. Lecter was pointing the gun at, God only knew what condition he was in considering she had yet to hear him. She needed to resolve this now.  
  
Inwardly Dr. Lecter cursed his delay at not having shot Will sooner. Now he was in a difficult position. Clarice held a gun pointed directly at him and he knew that she had made her choice, she had chosen Will over him and she would shoot him, albeit reluctantly but still, she would shoot him to protect Will. Dr. Lecter knew that even if he managed to cock and fire the gun before Clarice shot him, there was still a chance that his shot at Will would miss. Still, he knew what he had to do. This is what he had planned for and the moment of truth had arrived. Dr. Lecter smiled gently at Clarice and turned his head to look at Will.  
  
"Dr. Lecter, don't," Clarice yelled, the desperation beginning to edge into her voice.  
  
He ignored her, training the gun at Will's head.  
  
"Dr. Lecter it doesn't have to be like this," Clarice pleaded but cocked her gun anyway. "Don't make me shoot you."  
  
Dr. Lecter glanced back at Clarice and smiled again. It was a hauntingly sad smile.  
  
"Clarice," was all he whispered.  
  
Dr. Lecter turned his head back to Will and cocked the gun. In that instant, before he could get any shots off himself, Clarice Starling pulled her trigger and shot Dr. Lecter three times, two directly in the center of his chest and one in his right shoulder, and each report of the gun was like a stake pounding into her heart.  
  
Dr. Lecter groaned, clutched his chest, and fell heavily to the stone floor, the gun clattering across the ground. Clarice moved to Dr. Lecter's side, gun still outstretched, knelt down and felt for a pulse. It was there, it was weak, but it was there. Seth rushed to Joshua Graham and felt for a pulse as well. He was barely able to make one out and the boy's breathing was shallow and labored. He glanced down and saw the hypodermic needle and the band of rubber on the floor next to the chair and shook his head. He began to loosen the boy's limbs. Clarice picked up the gun Dr. Lecter had held and recognized it as Will's. She holstered her own gun, put his in the waistband of her pants, and whirled around to gaze into the cell.  
  
Clarice gasped and could not find her breath. She put her right hand over her mouth and her eyes widened in horror.  
  
"Oh sweet Jesus," she breathed at last although her mind did not register just how apropos the term was  
  
Will Graham had been crucified and the resemblance to every crucifix Clarice had ever seen was uncanny. He hung from a homemade, makeshift cross that was propped against the far wall of the cell and he was clad only in his boxer shorts. There was a nail through each wrist and one in each foot to keep him impaled to his cross. Blood dribbled slowly from each wound and pooled on the ground below. His head hung down so that his chin rested against his chest and his face was cut, bloodied, and swollen. Clarice saw bruising and swelling through his chest and decided he probably had at least one broken rib. Tacked to the cross above Will's head was a crude sign that read; "Will Graham, Savior of the FBI." Clarice turned her head slowly and looked at Seth who was also staring, slack-jawed, at the grisly sight in the cell.  
  
"Call 911 right now!" she yelled as she bolted through the door of Will's cell.  
To be continued. Please review!  
  
Shattered: You are so sweet to say such nice things! Thank you so much for the wonderful review, I'm glad that I am keeping everyone guessing as to what's going to happen. And yes, there will at some point be a sequel that will fill in Zachary's background and more information on his early training with the GD. Any characters that survive this story will most likely show up in the sequel as well! As always, thank you for your continued support of this fic.  
  
Kurt: Thank you for the review. I always appreciate your feedback. I'm pleased that you liked the Will/Josh conversation, after I posted it, I had second thoughts regarding some of it but I do think that ultimately it worked. Thanks as well for your continued reading and reviewing.  
  
ducki: Thank you for reading and reviewing. Wow, med school huh? Good luck to you. And yes, this term is almost over, but then another one starts right up!  
  
guber: Thanks for your great review! Again, I'm pleased that I'm keeping everyone guessing as to the outcome and, yes, I've probably debated killing each of the characters involved at least a dozen times but no word on who or who is not doing to die! Thanks for reading and reviewing.  
  
troesnaja: Wow, thank you for all the reviews. I'm glad you are enjoying the story.  
  
Morbid: LMAO to your review! I think that is the longest review I have ever received! I'm glad that you are pleased and yes, Josh is yours! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!  
  
DevilsQT: Yes, patience is a tough thing to learn but "I do believe we're making progress" (to borrow yet another line from the GD)!! Thank you loyal reader for your continued support.  
  
Nan: LOL, yes, I'm afraid I've been packing way too much into the last few chapters but I hate to shorten chapters. I'm sure it's tough for all my short attention span followers to get through the long ones but oh well! I'm so pleased that you are enjoying the story. Yes perhaps Kendra did kill herself a bit quickly but she had been deeply depressed for a week (which I should have alluded to more). Thank you for pointing that out. And as always, thank you for your great reviews.  
  
Kaitlyn: Wow, thank you so much. I think that is one of the nicest reviews I have ever received and I really do appreciate your nice comments. And no, I am not a follower of the whole Lecter/Clarice romance nonsense. While I must admit at times their relationship intrigues me I just do not like it when as you say they are thrown "implausibly" together romantically. I am glad you are enjoying the Will/Clarice angle. Thank you so much again for the wonderful review and thanks for reading. 


	21. Chapter 21: Miracles

Author's Note: To say that most of you were concerned over the ending of the last chapter would be a major understatement! I apologize to all you Hannibal lovers, Will lovers, and Josh lovers! And, as Kurt and I have discussed on IM, the story isn't over until the author writes "The End" so please keep that in mind (especially during this chapter).  
  
Chapter 21: Miracles  
  
Swarms of FBI agents arrived at the emergency room shortly after the three ambulances carrying Will, Josh, and Dr. Lecter did. Special Agent Wendy Croft and Special Agent Carlos Vega had accompanied Dr. Hannibal Lecter to surgery once he had been stabilized in the ER. The FBI was taking no chances that the infamous cannibal would escape once again. Will Graham, too, had been stabilized and rushed to surgery in attempts to repair the damage to his body inflicted by Dr. Lecter. Joshua Graham remained under treatment for heroin overdose in one of the trauma rooms. The hospital staff had been shocked by the conditions of all three men once the story of who each one was had circulated but it was Will's condition that shocked them the most. Privately, each doctor and nurse that learned of his condition was utterly surprised that he had not been DOA.  
  
Clarice Starling sat in the stark, whitewashed waiting room of the shock trauma center in the medical center of the University of Maryland in Baltimore with her head in her hands. Seth Williams and Ardelia Mapp sat in chairs on either side of her and alternately took turns holding her hands and whispering encouraging words. They had been there for hours and thus far Clarice had not shed a single tear. They had yet to hear any word on either Will's, Josh's, or Dr. Lecter's conditions and the lack of knowledge was eating her up inside. Clarice alternated between sitting and chewing her nails to pacing the floor of the crowded waiting room and chewing her nails. She could not eat, she could not drink, she could not sit still for any extended period of time, she could do nothing but fret as she waited for any word.  
  
"Is there an Agent Starling here?" A female's voice suddenly boomed through the waiting room. "A Clarice Starling?"  
  
Clarice looked up in the direction of the voice and saw the owner was a short, round Mexican American woman with tight curly black hair. She was dressed in a burgundy nurses' smock and pants, scanning the waiting room. Clarice stood up on unsteady legs, Ardelia and Seth immediately stood next to her each with one arm around her waist for support, both physically and emotionally. They helped her walk over to the nurse.  
  
"I'm Agent Starling," Clarice breathed. A ball of fear had settled into her stomach at the call of her name. Fear of the unknown, fear that the man she loved had just died.  
  
The nurse looked at her with deep brown eyes that were not unkind. "Hannibal Lecter is dead," she said quietly and simply. "Agent Croft requested that I come down and tell you."  
  
"What?" Clarice asked and felt disbelief wash over her. She took an involuntary step backward and was held steady by Ardelia and Seth.  
  
Clarice took a deep breath and felt the strength drain from her body. She could not believe she had accurately heard the nurse's words correctly. She had killed him. She had fired three shots into him when one probably would have sufficed to put him down. She had killed him. Her mind struggled to come to grips with the words. Clarice shook her head. Hannibal Lecter could not be dead, it was not possible. He always found a way through or found a way of escape. Then it dawned on her. He was not really dead, he couldn't be, and she needed to make certain.  
  
"I want to see him," Clarice whispered and turned in the direction of the surgical unit. "I need to see him."  
  
"Claire," Ardelia replied softly and put a hand on her arm. "Don't do this now, you're in shock, give it some time."  
  
The nurse nodded at Clarice, not understanding the exchange between the two women and gestured for Clarice to follow her. Clarice shook her head at Ardelia, set her jaw determinedly and shook off her friend's grasp. Without another word, she strode after the nurse. Ardelia looked at Seth who shrugged and she sighed audibly.  
  
"I fucking hate that bastard," Delia said vehemently. "He's done nothing but ruin her life for years and yet here she is, feeling guilty over shooting him when that's what she should have done years ago to put us all out of our misery."  
  
Seth pulled Delia close and enveloped her in a hug. "We need to be supportive for her right now, Del," he said quietly into her hair. "We need to keep our feelings about Hannibal Lecter to ourselves."  
  
Ardelia pulled away from Seth and gave him a hard look. "You mean I need to keep my feelings to myself don't you? You know what? You weren't there, Seth. You didn't have to watch as Jack Crawford used her like a dispensable pawn to get what he wanted out of Lecter. You didn't have to sit up with her at night after he had escaped in Memphis because she was afraid to be alone. You haven't had to watch her year after year become more of a zombie, become more of a stranger, become more and more withdrawn because of this bullshit connection she thinks she has with him which in turn makes her think she is a monster like him..."  
  
"Del," Seth interrupted her quietly. "You are a very passionate person and that is one of the things I love about you. But right now is not about you. No matter how you feel about Dr. Lecter and Clarice's feelings for him, you need to be supportive of your friend right now. She's got enough to deal with today."  
  
The fire in Ardelia's eyes burned for a second longer before she conceded. She lowered her gaze and nodded her head. Seth put his arm around her shoulders and they walked in the direction that Clarice had disappeared.  
  
The nurse that Clarice was following led her to the hospital's surgical unit. They walked past Agent Croft and Agent Vega sitting in the small waiting area in the midst of the surgical unit. Agent Croft was flipping through a magazine and Agent Vega was dozing quietly, his head leaned back against the wall. Agent Croft glanced up when they walked by and watched Clarice. The nurse pushed the outer door to the surgical area open and Clarice dashed through.  
  
"Which room?" She asked the nurse breathlessly and the nurse pointed to the room directly to her left.  
  
Clarice scurried toward the door and then slowed as she reached it, suddenly afraid to enter. What if he was really dead? What would she do then? He had been a huge part of her life for so long that it seemed as if Clarice Starling could not remember life without Dr. Hannibal Lecter in it. Additionally, she would have to live with the knowledge that she had killed him. Clarice paused briefly with both hands on the outside of the door, took a deep breath, and then pushed it open.  
  
The first thing Clarice noticed was the body lying on the surgical bed in the center of the small room although she could not quite make out the face. The lights in the room had been dimmed slightly to make it easier on the eyes of the nurses who would clean up the room now that the surgery was over. A crash cart and other medical machines surrounded the bed, all still and quiet now. The body was draped in a white sheet, chest and head exposed, both body and sheet stained scarlet with blood and the bloody surgical instruments on the surgical trays had yet to be cleared away. Clarice slowly approached the body, her blood pounding in her ears. She reached the bed and peered at the man's face.  
  
Indeed, Dr. Hannibal Lecter lay motionless and pale on the surgical bed. Clarice gasped and put her hand over her mouth. She had not wanted to believe it was true. Her mind would not, even now, let her believe. He could not really be dead. She stood there staring down at his lifeless form when she heard someone enter the room.  
  
"Excuse me, miss, but you cannot be in here," a man's voice said sternly.  
  
Clarice glanced up, hand still covering her mouth. The man was wearing green surgical scrubs and an ID badge. He looked to be in his mid-fifties and his brown hair was balding. Clarice found herself trembling involuntarily. She cleared her throat so she could speak.  
  
"I'm Agent Starling with the FBI," she said shakily.  
  
"I don't care who you are, miss, you must leave."  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just needed to see him. I needed to make certain."  
  
The doctor watched her solemnly for a moment. Clarice slowly reached her right hand out and placed her fore and middle fingers over the spot on Dr. Lecter's neck where his pulse point should be. She stilled her body, even her breath, and waited to feel something, anything. He could not really be dead, he just could not. But there was nothing.  
  
Clarice looked into Dr. Lecter's pale face, at his closed, sunken eyes and his partially opened mouth, and felt the beginnings of tears in her eyes. She blinked quickly. She would not cry over him now, especially not after what he had done to her and Will.  
  
"I'm sorry Agent Starling," the doctor replied quietly behind her. "But I really must insist that you leave now."  
  
Clarice nodded slowly and blindly made her way out of the room without a look back. The doctor watched as she went through the doors and then pulled a syringe out of his pants pocket and injected its contents into Dr. Lecter's IV.  
  
Clarice stood rigid in the outer room of the surgical unit and watched as another nurse spoke to Ardelia, Seth, Wendy Croft and Carlos Vega. Their faces were solemn and they nodded from time to time. Clarice felt her heart drop.  
  
'Oh God,' she thought. 'God no, not Will. Please not Will. I could not stand to lose two in one day.'  
  
Slowly, Clarice's feet trudged out into the waiting area. The other four agents looked up as she approached and Ardelia stood to greet her. The nurse, a pretty young girl with long blonde hair who looked as if she still belonged in high school turned to look at her.  
  
"Agent Starling?" The nurse asked.  
  
Clarice nodded dully.  
  
"I'm Nurse Novak and I was told to come find you concerning your partner, Agent Graham," the nurse replied steadily.  
  
Clarice stared at her with blank eyes, steeling herself for the worst, and merely nodded.  
  
"Agent Graham, as I'm sure you are aware, was in extremely bad shape when he was brought in. He was badly dehydrated and malnourished. He had two broken ribs, a broken nose, and many lacerations to the face and back, some very deep. He also had puncture wounds through either wrist, through both feet, and his left pinky finger had been severed." The nurse paused.  
  
'She's speaking of him in the past tense,' Clarice told herself. 'He's dead.' But she only nodded again.  
  
Nurse Novak smiled sympathetically. "During surgery, Agent Graham's heart stopped beating. That was about an hour ago.."  
  
Clarice put both hands over her mouth and her eyes filled. Ardelia put an arm around her shoulders and held her close. Clarice's eyes never left the nurse.  
  
"...however the surgeons were able to get it started again. He came through the initial surgery okay but because of his weakened condition and loss of blood, he's in very critical condition," she paused. "I'm so very sorry but we're not sure if he'll make it through the night."  
  
Clarice closed her eyes and leaned into Ardelia. She stood there for a moment and re-opened her eyes.  
  
"I want to see him," she replied hoarsely. "Please."  
  
The nurse gently shook her head. "I'm sorry, Agent Starling," she said. "But at this point, only family members would be allowed in. I'm so very sorry."  
  
Nurse Novak turned to leave and Clarice came forward, catching her arm. "Wait please," Clarice beseeched, looking the young woman in the eyes. She lowered her voice to a small whisper. "Please, I have to see him," she paused. "He is more than just my partner," she said. "Please."  
  
Nurse Novak saw the pain in Clarice's eyes and understood what the woman was trying to tell her. She nodded slowly. "Alright," she said. "I'll take you to him."  
  
They turned and walked back into the outer room of the surgical area. Clarice glanced at the door to her left and was suddenly struck by an eerie feeling that she should go in and check Dr. Lecter again. Then she shook her head. He was dead, she must accept that. And right now, she needed to see Will. Clarice followed the nurse down a short hallway to the surgical recovery rooms. The nurse held the door to one of the rooms open for her and followed Clarice into the room.  
  
At the sight of Will, Clarice's eyes finally brimmed over with tears and they ran slowly down her cheeks. He was so pale and looked so fragile that her heart broke. There was an IV in each arm dripping slowly, there were electrodes on either temple and on his chest, there was a blood pressure cuff around his left arm, and there was a tube down his throat to help him breathe. She went to his side, pulled a chair close to the edge of his bed, and sat down slowly, her eyes never leaving him for an instant. She inched her right hand out slowly until it rested lightly on top of his and she held it. She bent down and kissed his forehead gently. Nurse Novak smiled softly and rested her hand on Clarice's shoulder. She was deeply touched by Clarice's gentleness. Clarice wiped her face before gazing up at the nurse.  
  
"Listen, hon," Nurse Novak said. "I'm on for another eight hours so if you need anything, anything at all, just buzz the nurses' station and ask for me. My first name's Angela."  
  
Clarice smiled and another tear rolled slowly down her cheek. "Thank you so much, Angela. I can't tell you how much this means to me."  
  
"I can see it," Angela replied and squeezed Clarice's shoulder. "Besides, hopefully it'll do him good to have you near. But you may encounter some friction from the hospital if you try to stay on past visiting hours."  
  
Clarice was touched at the young woman's sensitivity and words. Angela gave Clarice's shoulder one more squeeze before quietly heading out the door. Clarice turned back to Will and smiled bravely through her tears.  
  
"Will, it's me," she said softly. "I'm here and no matter what, I'm not going to leave you. You've got to get better. You've got to come back to me, okay?" Tears coursed down her cheeks steadily now as she spoke. She squeezed his hand lightly. "You promised you wouldn't leave me, remember? Remember that night? We were in bed. Remember the things we said to each other? You can't leave me. You can't because I love you Will. I love you and I need you."  
  
Clarice closed her eyes, laid her head down on the pillow next to his, and cried freely, still clutching his hand in hers as she listened to the machine helping him breathe and the machine monitoring his heart rate.  
  
Will Graham did not die that night. Nor did he die the following night. Given his initial condition, the trauma doctors were astounded at his slow but steady pace of recovery. Clarice Starling kept her promise to him and did not leave his side for any length of time. She was granted special permission by the hospital director to stay with Will in part because of the infamous perpetrator of the crime and the media scrutiny that now surrounded them all. Hour after hour, she would sit in the chair next to his bed, holding his hand and whispering softly to him, sometimes reading to him. During her shifts, Nurse Angela Novak would check in on Clarice and Will often sneaking in food or something to drink for Clarice, one time she even brought in a bouquet of flowers to brighten the room. After work, Seth and Ardelia would come to the hospital and check to see if Clarice needed anything or if there had been any type of change at all to Will's condition. Delia would bring her fresh clothes and books. They were still not allowed to spend much time in the room with Clarice because of Will's condition, but they wanted to be sure she knew they were there for her.  
  
On the third day after having been brought to the Trauma Center, Clarice, afraid of the answer she might receive, asked Angela about Joshua Graham's condition. Angela had been unsure since he had never come into the surgical wing but she promised to check.  
  
True to her word, on her lunch break, Angela Novak came into Will's room and pulled up a chair next to Clarice. She leaned closer to Clarice and whispered.  
  
"I checked on Will's son and apparently on the way here in the ambulance, because of the amount of heroin injected into his body, his heart stopped."  
  
"Shit," Clarice muttered.  
  
"They brought him into the emergency room. His heart had not been beating for two minutes which meant his brain was not getting any oxygen during that time."  
  
Clarice's eyes filled with tears and she nodded slowly.  
  
"They started an IV of a narcotic antagonist called Narcan which is used in overdose cases to help counteract the drug. They also administered Eppy which is a drug used to aid in starting the heart in addition to shocking his heart. I'm not going to go into all the medical terminology.."  
  
"I wouldn't follow you anyway," Clarice interrupted tiredly.  
  
"..but after some time, his heart did start to beat again."  
  
Clarice breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God," she whispered. "Will he be alright? Will there be any long term damage?"  
  
"At this point it's hard to say but the nurse I spoke to said he is awake now and coherent which is a very good sign," Angela smiled. "But there's no telling if there will be any long term damage."  
  
Clarice smiled back and squeezed the woman's arm. "I cannot tell you enough how much I appreciate you."  
  
"I know," Angela said quietly. "It's no problem. I just really hope everything works out for the three of you."  
  
A few hours later, Clarice sat dozing in her chair when there was a knock on the door. She lifted her head and opened her eyes to watch as the door opened slowly. She recognized Joshua Graham as he was wheeled into the room by Angela Novak. Joshua's black hair was disheveled and he looked uncomfortable wearing a hospital gown.  
  
Angela smiled. "He wanted to visit his dad," she said quietly.  
  
Clarice stretched and made a movement to rise. "Of course," she smiled at him. "I'll leave you two alone."  
  
"No," Joshua said quietly. "Please stay."  
  
Clarice looked at him, uncertain if that was what he really wanted or if he was just being polite.  
  
"Please," Josh repeated.  
  
"Okay."  
  
Angela smiled once more and left the three of them alone. Clarice wheeled Joshua around to the other side of Will's bed near his head before returning to her own chair and she was once again struck by how much he looked like his father. He sat in his wheelchair, dry eyed and sullen, and watched as the breathing machine took breaths for his father. He took Will's left hand in his own and kissed it lightly.  
  
"Hey dad," Josh whispered huskily. "I love you. Please get better okay?" He paused. "And I just wanted to say thanks. You saved my life in there."  
  
Josh Graham hung his head slightly and closed his eyes. Clarice watched him quietly for a moment, and they listened to the monitors and machines around them hum, beep, and whir.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Clarice asked him softly, attempting to make small talk but not really knowing what to say.  
  
"Okay I guess," he shrugged, looking at his father. "I'm really tired though."  
  
Clarice nodded. She supposed that was to be expected. "Have you talked to your mom?"  
  
"Yes, in fact she's here," he said and looked sheepishly at Clarice. "I keep trying to get her to go back to her hotel, I'll be fine, but she insists on doting on me constantly."  
  
"She's just worried about you," Clarice said softly.  
  
"She's driving me crazy," Josh smiled gently. It was a mirror of Will's same quirky smile. Joshua held out his right hand across the bed to Clarice. "We haven't been properly introduced. You probably already know but I'm Josh Graham."  
  
Clarice grasped his hand with hers and shook it. "I'm Clarice Starling," she said quietly. "It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard a bit about you."  
  
Josh smiled again. "And it's nice to meet you too. I've heard about you as well."  
  
Clarice's eyebrows and curiosity rose. "Really? When?"  
  
"While we were held captive," he paused, looked at her, blushed slightly, and realized he should not have said anything. "Dad said some things that's all."  
  
"All good I hope," she chuckled wryly and wondered what in the world Will could have said to his son about her.  
  
Joshua's blush went crimson thinking about the derogatory things his father had said to Dr. Lecter about her and Clarice knew that something was up. "I guess you could say that yeah," he said.  
  
Clarice watched him for a moment but decided not to push the issue. They both quietly watched Will for a moment.  
  
"He told me he loves you," Josh said quietly.  
  
Clarice looked at him and Josh met her gaze levelly. They both remained silent.  
  
"I'm glad you're alright Josh," she said finally. "I know that's all your father would want."  
  
Joshua lowered his gaze. "I know," he replied simply. "Truth is he protected me in there as much as he could. He kept Dr. Lecter from hurting me by getting the psycho to come after him."  
  
Clarice smiled gently. That was the Will she had come to know. "He loves you so much Josh. I hope you know that."  
  
"I do," Josh nodded and tears began to form in his eyes but he blinked them away. "I wish I would have been more fair to him though while I was growing up. I wish that I would have given him the chance to explain things to me. He tried so many times to talk to me and I would just hang up the phone on him," he paused and could not restrain his tears anymore. He swiped at them with a jerky hand. "I was such an asshole to him. I treated him like shit."  
  
Clarice reached across and put her hand on his shoulder. "Josh, it's okay. He understands," she paused. "You know what he told me one time? He told me that if you could grow up to be the man that you are today in spite of having a father like him, then you are undoubtedly the most amazing person he knows."  
  
Joshua looked up at her. "He really said that?"  
  
"Yes, he did," Clarice nodded. "And if you don't mind me giving you some advice, one thing I've learned in life is that everyone makes mistakes, no one's perfect, and it's those who love us unconditionally that are always there for us no matter what, and forgive us our faults. Your father loves you unconditionally Josh but there is a lot he regrets and wishes he could have done differently."  
  
"I realize that now," Josh replied. "I only hope he pulls through this so he and I can try to have the kind of relationship we used to back when I was growing up."  
  
Clarice smiled gently. "Why don't you tell me about it."  
  
For the next hour or so, Josh told Clarice about his childhood. He spoke of the happy times as well as the down times. It made Clarice happy to hear stories about Will from Josh's perspective and the longer he talked, the more they both smiled. They even managed a laugh now and then. They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Nurse Novak walked through.  
  
"Sounds like a party in here," she smiled.  
  
Immediately behind her followed a thin dark haired woman with deep lines etched into her face. Upon seeing Josh, she rushed to his side and hugged him tightly.  
  
"Josh," she breathed. "Thank God you're alright. Why didn't you tell me where you were going? I have been worried sick."  
  
"Of course I'm alright, mom," Josh countered, irritated. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you but I wanted to visit dad alone."  
  
At the mention of his father, Molly Graham turned to look at her ex-husband lying on the bed. Her face softened and she gently squeezed Josh's shoulder. Then she looked at Clarice and smiled softly. Clarice smiled back and extended her hand to Molly.  
  
"Hi, I'm Clarice Starling."  
  
Molly's face brightened and she shook Clarice's hand. "It is so good to meet you Agent Starling. I cannot thank you enough for everything you've done for us."  
  
"It's the least I could do," Clarice said lamely. She was uncomfortable around Molly but she tried desperately not to show it. She felt sure that Molly could see her love for Will written all over her face and was unsure how the woman would react to it.  
  
Josh smiled gently at Clarice and could sense her discomfort. "Hey mom," he said. "Can you get me a Coke? Please?"  
  
"Of course," Molly said and looked back to Clarice. "Would you like anything Agent Starling?"  
  
"No, thank you," Clarice replied. "And please, call me Clarice."  
  
'After all,' Clarice thought. 'I have fucked your ex-husband so that probably puts us on a first name basis.'  
  
Molly kissed Josh on the forehead and now it was his turn to look uncomfortable. Clarice smiled and lowered her eyes. Molly glanced at Will once more and then quietly exited the room.  
  
"I'm sorry about that," Josh said quietly.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For mom," he sighed. "She can be so dramatic sometimes."  
  
"Don't worry about it Josh," Clarice smiled.  
  
Clarice looked at Will and at first her mind did not register what she was seeing. His eyes were open. In fact he had been observing Clarice and Josh in the few moments after Molly had walked out.  
  
"Oh my God, Will," Clarice said softly and stood up from her chair.  
  
Joshua looked at his father and his eyes widened. "Dad," he breathed.  
  
Will's eyes blinked slowly in acknowledgment. The tube down his throat forbade him from speaking. Clarice smiled, tears of joy in her eyes, and pushed the call button for the nurse. She reached down and stroked Will's hair off his forehead and kissed his cheek.  
  
"I'm so happy to see you," she whispered in his ear.  
  
Will blinked again and his eyes swung slowly over to Josh. Josh smiled and took his father's hand.  
  
"Thank God you're okay," Josh smiled.  
  
At his comment, Will nodded slightly as if to say he thought the same thing about Josh. Nurse Angela Novak entered the room and saw Will was awake. She strode to the bed and made a mark on his chart to note the time of day. Then she looked back up at him.  
  
"Welcome back Agent Graham," she smiled at him. "I'm Nurse Novak. We'll get that tube out of your throat shortly," she paused as she regarding him. "You're on your way to a full recovery I'd say. It's really rather miraculous. I know these two must be so happy to have you back."  
  
To be continued. Please review.  
  
No responses to your reviews this chapter because most of you tweaked over the ending of the last chapter and I'd just be typing the same words over and over again! But I do want to thank you all SO MUCH!! Thanks for your continued reading and reviewing and I just hope you'll all stick with me, the story is almost done! See y'all next chapter. 


	22. Chapter 22: Celebrations

Chapter 22: Celebrations  
  
Clarice Starling walked through the door of the town house and was met by the delicious aroma of barbeque wafting in from the back patio. She smiled and dropped her briefcase onto the floor next to the door. As she strode through the living room, she stripped off her suit jacket, dropped it onto the couch as she passed, stepped out of her high heel shoes in the doorway to the kitchen, and began to unbutton her blouse. She had come to detest work clothes and they were the first things off once she came through the door at home. She chuckled as she thought that more often than not she was helped out of them eagerly by Will.  
  
Continuing to unbutton her blouse, Clarice stopped in the doorway of the backdoor and smiled as she spied Will through a plume of smoke from the barbeque. He was standing over the grill, tongs in hand, surveying the grilling shrimp with a serious look on his face, clad in khaki shorts and a white tank top. She cleared her throat loudly and he glanced up. Will grinned at her, put the tongs down, and limped slowly to where she stood. He put his arms around her waist and kissed her.  
  
"You should have stayed there," Clarice whispered in his ear. "I could've come to you."  
  
"It's fine," he said. "Besides, you know the doctor says I've got to work the muscles as much as I can." He looked down and viewed her white lace bra beneath her fully unbuttoned blouse. "Hey," he grinned, "you didn't wait for me to help."  
  
Clarice giggled and threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him close. Everyday she reminded herself of how close she had come to losing him. Everyday she reminded herself just how lucky she was to have him. Will held her tightly and then let her go.  
  
"The shrimp's gonna burn," he said and limped slowly back to the barbeque to turn the jumbo shrimp.  
  
Clarice watched painfully as he limped and noticed the several attempts to grasp the tongs before he was finally successful and her heart went out to him. It had been eight months since Will Graham had been released from the hospital. Eight months of countless orthopedic surgeries on his wrists and feet at Johns Hopkins medical center to repair his broken bones, tendons and nerves. In addition to the surgeries, there had been and continued to be painful rehabilitation to learn how to use his hands and feet again. Through the rehabilitation and his determination, Will had regained most uses of his hands and feet. Occasionally he dropped something or had trouble gripping and he still walked slowly and usually with a limp but he had given up using a cane months ago saying that he refused to be an old man and Clarice had been so proud of his accomplishment. His broken nose and ribs had healed nicely although the ribs ached whenever the weather changed. The cuts on his face had also healed, although one left a small scar above his right eyebrow and he now had numerous scars across his back from the whip cutting into him. Clarice loved to tease him by telling him that the one on his forehead made him look rugged and dangerous now instead of like such a pretty boy. He would always roll his eyes at her and feign outrage.  
  
Will had told her that the hardest thing to learn to cope with was the fact that he only had nine fingers now. Just as many amputees had proclaimed, he could still sometimes swear that he felt his left pinky finger there. Quite often his hand would ache at the base where the finger should have been and Will would grimace and flex his hand and rub it with his right one until the pain subsided. In addition to the formidable challenge of learning how to re-use his hand, Will also had to learn how to grasp things with his left hand without the use of his pinky finger. All in all, his surgeons and doctors were enormously pleased with his progress, after all, it was not everyday that someone in the U.S. was crucified, and they often proclaimed him to be a medical miracle. Will would smile politely and tell them he'd certainly had enough of being referred to as a savior or a miracle to last him three lifetimes.  
  
Will had been extremely careful in taking his prescription medication for pain. In the hospital, the doctors had been made aware of his former addiction and they monitored his usage very closely and he came through without a renewed addiction with Clarice by his side offering support the entire time. Clarice and Will had made the decision to share a residence shortly before Will had been released from the hospital. Will made arrangements to get rid of most of his shabby belongings and moved his clothes and other few personal items into Clarice's home. They had been living together for nearly eight months now and could not be happier.  
  
Joshua Graham had been released from the hospital the day after his father had awakened although he and Molly had stayed in Baltimore for another week until Will's condition had been upgraded to good and it was certain that he would recover. During that time, Clarice had tried to avoid Molly as much as possible but the times she had spent with her had been relatively pleasant. Privately Clarice teased Will that she could see her and Molly becoming really good friends. Will would groan and jokingly tell her that would kill him when the crucifixion had not. Josh had apparently made a full recovery from his heroin overdose at the hands of Dr. Hannibal Lecter and had finished out his senior year with no problems. He had helped lead his basketball team to become regional champions and had graduated with honors. Both events had been proudly attended by his father and Clarice.  
  
Over the last eight months, Clarice Starling had painfully come to grips with the fact that she had killed Dr. Lecter. He had been buried at King Memorial Park cemetery in Baltimore. His headstone read simply, "Dr. H. Lecter" and the dates of his birth and death. The simplicity of the headstone and the non publicized site of burial were done in the hopes that fanatics would not exhume his body or desecrate the site. So far, it had worked. The media coverage after the incidents at the old Baltimore State Hospital had been intense with countless interview requests pouring in daily to Will, Clarice and Josh. Even now the media frenzy had yet to die down, especially after the media had discovered that Clarice and Will had moved in together; they had had a field day with that. Two months ago, Clarice and Will had hired a contract attorney and had sold the book and movie rights to their story and they commanded a huge sum of money which Hollywood gladly forked over. They had given half to Joshua and put the other half into an account to collect interest. Each of them thought it immensely funny that within the next two years they would see themselves on the big screen and they laughed over the thought of which actors would actually portray them.  
  
Clarice tried to go once a month to visit Dr. Lecter's gravesite. Occasionally she brought flowers and she wondered if anyone else ever visited him, although she highly doubted it. She always told Will when she had gone as they kept no secrets from one another and she always noted the shadow that passed over his face when she told him.  
  
After his release, Clarice had told Will again of her feelings for Dr. Lecter and had assured him over and over that her love for the doctor had been merely plutonic, as a child for their parent. Will had listened to her patiently but had said that he would never quite understand the relationship between her and Dr. Lecter. He held no romanticized or idealistic feelings for the man, only hatred, especially after what Dr. Lecter had done to Josh, Clarice, and him.  
  
Hannibal Lecter's protégé, Zachary Matthews, in a much publicized trial in which both Clarice and Will had to testify, pled not guilty by reason of insanity and the jury actually believed him. Just as Will had predicted, Zachary took the stand and cried over his alleged abuse at the hands of Dr. Lecter. He claimed he was coerced and feared for his life if he did not follow the doctor's exact instructions. While the abuse charge against Dr. Lecter was deemed by the judge inadmissible in court because there was no corroborating evidence and ordered any such testimony to be stricken from the record, the damage was still done. The jury heard it and while they were officially instructed to disregard the statements, the young man's words remained with them and they were touched by his courage. In the end, the jury indeed found him not guilty by reason of insanity however, by order of the judge, Zachary Matthews was ordered to the Walter P. Carter in- patient psychiatric facility in Baltimore where he would undergo treatment until he was well enough to be released.  
  
Eventually, Clarice had shed tears at Dr. Hannibal Lecter's gravesite although it had been some time before she did. She had knelt on the ground next to his headstone, put her head in her hands, and wept bitterly. But she came to realize that the tears she cried were not tears of sorrow or of guilt, they had been tears of relief, relief that he was finally out of her life, relief that she was finally free from his emotional and physical grasp. When she had come home that night, Will had seen her tear stained face and had known where she had been. She had smiled through fresh tears as she had told him that finally she knew her dreams would be free of fear and specters and he had smiled back, hugging her close.  
  
Now as she watched him turn the shrimp, Clarice smiled contentedly to herself. She could not remember having been this happy since before her father had been killed. It was so nice to come home to Will every evening. Now she finally understood the old adage, "Home is where the heart is." She kept "normal" working hours at the Bureau and spent her evenings and weekends with Will. Clarice had come to relish family time with him and Josh. Josh Graham had ended up coming to spend one weekend a month with them during the school year and now that it was summer, he was arriving tomorrow to stay for two months before reporting to UCLA for the fall term. Tonight would be the last night for two months that they would be alone in the house and Clarice planned to make it memorable.  
  
"I'm gonna go change," she called to Will who nodded through the smoke.  
  
She turned to walk back through the kitchen and noticed the candles on the table and a bottle of wine chilling in the ice bucket and smiled. Apparently Will had the same idea as she did on making the night special.  
  
'Two great minds think alike,' Clarice thought and smiled.  
  
She walked into the bedroom and peeled off her blouse. It was early summer and already the humidity was stifling. Clarice dreaded the coming hot months. She dropped the shirt into the clothes hamper and sat down on the bed. She ran her hand along the smooth bedspread and smiled. Will made the bed every morning almost religiously. It was one of his "exercises" to work the repaired tendons in his hands. His rehabilitation doctor had recommended early on that he look for everyday tasks that would at first challenge his hand flexibility and coordination through use and repetitive motions and promised that they would in time help his hands regain their use. Will and Clarice had found that making the bed, washing dishes, sweeping, and doing laundry all helped his hands tremendously. Clarice smiled wider as she thought how his helping her remove her clothes helped his hands as well. She began to roll off her thigh-high nylons from beneath her skirt. She pulled them off her feet, threw them at the open hamper and smiled when they went in.  
  
"Two points," Will smiled from the doorway.  
  
Clarice laughed. She had not noticed him watching her. Will limped into the room and sat on the bed next to her.  
  
"You know I would've been perfectly happy to help you do that," he grinned and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on her neck, just behind her left ear.  
  
"Well, I'm still wearing clothes that do need to come off," she purred.  
  
"I'm always happy to help," Will chuckled.  
  
Their open mouths met and soon everything was a blur of removed clothing, roaming mouths, and moving limbs.  
  
"The shrimp is going to burn," Clarice whispered breathlessly into Will's ear as he gripped her hair and pulled it back gently to tilt her head so he could nibble her neck although she knew there was no way he would leave now.  
  
"It's already done and in the oven to stay warm," he said softly. "No worries."  
  
Clarice smiled and met his mouth with hers.  
Several hours later after dinner had been finished and the dishes cleared away, Will and Clarice sat curled together on the couch with the bottle of wine half finished and open in front of them on the coffee table. Clarice's head lay on Will's shoulder and she closed her eyes, happy, as he ran his hand through her hair.  
  
"Clarice there's something I need to tell you," Will said quietly.  
  
"What is it?" She replied contentedly.  
  
"I just want to be honest with you about something that happened while Josh and I were being held by Lecter."  
  
Clarice sat up and looked at him. He had not talked much about the days spent at the mercy of Dr. Lecter and now that he wanted to, she was determined to be very supportive of him no matter what he said.  
  
"Go ahead," she smiled gently.  
  
Will sighed and she watched as he ran his hand through his hair like he always did when he was nervous or uncertain about something. He turned so that he was fully facing her.  
  
"I said some very ugly things about you to Dr. Lecter at one point," he said softly and looked her in the eye. "I did not mean a word of any of it but I said it merely to goad him into coming after me," he paused and grimaced at the memory of pummeling fists. "He was going to hurt Josh and I had to stop him. That's not an excuse, just an explanation."  
  
"Will it's alright," Clarice said and took his hands in hers. "I figured something like that when Josh told me in the hospital that you had said some things about me to Dr. Lecter." She paused and smiled again. "I understand and it's okay."  
  
Will shook his head. "It's not okay, Clarice. I should not have said what I said about you regardless of the situation. It was not right."  
  
"You said what you said to save your son," Clarice said softly. "Any good parent would do the same and I admire you for that." She paused. "I must admit though, I am curious as to what you said."  
  
Will met her gaze and shook his head again. "No way," he said. "I promised myself I would never repeat those words. Ever."  
  
"Well, I can imagine what you said," Clarice said. "If it was directed at Dr. Lecter I'm sure it was something about you and me and sex."  
  
Will closed his eyes momentarily and sighed again. "Something like that yes." He paused and looked at her. "I won't tell you what I said but I just wanted you to know about it. We don't keep things from each other and I needed to clear that off my chest before I ask you something."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I hope you know how much I love you," Will smiled. "You are my life, you are my breath, you are my entire world and I could not imagine life without you in it. I am the luckiest man in the world to be loved by you. You amaze me everyday with your strength of character and your kind heart. I only hope you will do me the honor and be my wife." Will paused and pulled a ring out of his pants pocket. "Clarice Starling, will you marry me?"  
  
Clarice's eyes watered and she smiled. "Of course I will." She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed.  
  
"I love you so much," he whispered into her neck.  
  
"I love you too, Will Graham," Clarice said happily.  
  
Will slipped the ring onto her finger and smiled. Clarice gazed at it. It was a princess cut diamond and it looked to be about 2 carats. It was set into a band of braided gold. It must have cost him a fortune. She looked up at him.  
  
"It's absolutely beautiful," she smiled.  
  
Will leaned in and kissed her. "You're absolutely beautiful," he whispered.  
  
He planted small kisses down her neck, over the strap of her tank top, and across the top of her shoulder. Clarice smiled.  
  
"I have something to tell you too," she whispered in his ear.  
  
Will sat up and looked at her. "What is it?"  
  
"I was offered a job today," she smiled.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yes, Section Chief of Behavioral Science," she replied proudly.  
  
Will smiled broadly. "Clarice, that's wonderful. I'm so proud of you." He hugged her tightly for a moment then pulled back and looked into her face. "You said yes right?"  
  
She laughed. "Yes, I said yes. Assistant Director Wegener practically begged me to accept the position. Apparently the interim chief they brought in after Kendra died is just not up to the task. Poor guy, he's from the Organized Crime division and he's in way over his head in Behavioral Science." She shrugged. "They wanted someone from the inside this time, they said. They want me."  
  
Will hugged her again. "That is so wonderful sweetie."  
  
Clarice nuzzled his neck and kissed his earlobe lightly. "So it would appear we have two things to celebrate tonight."  
  
"Indeed." Will glanced at his watch and grinned at her. "And we only have 12 hours until Josh's plane lands. We better get to celebrating."  
  
Clarice smiled at him, put one leg over his lap, and straddled him. He leaned forward slightly as she pulled his white tank top off of him and then she leaned down to kiss his chest. As she felt his heart quicken and heard his breath catch, Clarice Starling thought how she would never get tired of him.  
To be continued. Please review.  
  
Shattered: Just to clear one thing up; the GD was not dead at the end of the chapter where Clarice shot him, he did have a pulse. You're not supposed to care about Will? LOL! I'm using my magic powers to make you care!! Thanks so much POI junkie for all your wonderful reviews, I absolutely love them.  
  
Kurt: LOL! Super Maximum Strength NoDoz? LOL! Well, time will only tell what was injected into his IV. Yes, I liked that one line in particular myself (the ex-husband line!). And yes, this tale is winding down, just a couple more chapters I reckon. Thanks so much for your great reviews.  
  
LoT: LOL yes, I assume I will be dodging Harpys for the next few weeks or so for killing the GD. As always, thank you so much for your fun reviews.  
  
Jenny: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing.  
  
guber: As far as the reasons behind Will and Josh surviving, everything will make sense in the next chapter. I did toy with killing them off as well for several weeks. Thanks again for your review.  
  
ducki: Aww, thank you so much for the compliment. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Dark Topaz: LOL, here you go! More! Thanks for reading and reviewing. 


	23. Chapter 23: Quid Pro Quo

Author's Note: I borrowed the idea of changing Behavioral Sciences name from John Douglas in his book, "Obsession." And to MC: thank you so very much for your tireless assistance. And thanks so much to my father Keith for the "pastor" idea.  
  
Chapter 23: Quid Pro Quo  
  
The early December wind gently rattled the window pane as it blew the light snow flurries against it while Clarice Starling viewed herself in the full length mirror in the woman's dressing room of the Capitol Hill Presbyterian Church in Washington, D.C. Ardelia Mapp, her maid of honor, stood behind her, eyes glistening, and smiled happily.  
  
"You're so beautiful Claire," Ardelia breathed. "You're radiant. You positively glow."  
  
Clarice smiled at her friend and turned around slowly, the long white satin skirt of her wedding gown swishing softly around her feet. She felt as if she were in the middle of a dream and that she was the luckiest woman ever. She was about to marry a man whom over the last year had come to be one of her best friends and closest confidants, her partner and her lover; and the only man in her lifetime that she had ever been both emotionally and physically intimate with. Clarice Starling had long thought that she would never find anyone like Will and that this day might never come.  
  
Clarice turned her head to gaze out the floor to ceiling windows opposite the mirror. The windows were shielded from the outside by enormous hedges and trees just beyond. Threaded throughout the hedges and trees were clear white small Christmas lights that shown brightly and waved softly in the wind. Night was just beginning to fall and while the sun could not be seen because of the dark storm clouds, Clarice was pleased with the snow. It was a light, soft, snow fall that drifted lazily to the ground and it added to the overall effects of the beautiful Christmas lights. However, Clarice smiled when she thought of the warm sandy beach she and Will would spend their honeymoon at. They had rented a home for two weeks with a private beach in the Bahamas and they could spend their days sunbathing, swimming, and frolicking in the surf, and the private beach meant that clothing would always being optional. She decided that she would not miss the snow then but for now it added that extra special touch to her wedding.  
  
She and Will, despite their not being religious had opted for a "traditional" wedding of sorts and when they had begun planning their wedding and scouting out churches, they had fallen in love with this beautiful Presbyterian church building that had been erected in the 1860's. The Pastor, "Pastor Bob" as he liked to be called, was a sweet old man with a generous smile and he had happily agreed to marry the now infamous Clarice Starling and Will Graham despite the fact they were not Presbyterian. Because of the media coverage, it would bring quite a bit of positive publicity to his church.  
  
Clarice blinked and returned to the present. She turned back to look at Ardelia who had watched her reverie quietly and blushed at having been watched. Ardelia smiled. Over the last week, she had noticed that Clarice had become quite a bit more contemplative than normal although she did know the reason for it.  
  
"I'm so happy for you," Ardelia smiled and bear hugged Clarice before softly clapping her hands and bouncing up and down excitedly. Ardelia was absolutely delighted for her old friend. She was so excited that Clarice had finally found the happiness she so deserved. Clarice laughed outright at her friend's joyful display.  
  
There was a quiet knock at the door and a fresh young face peeked in. It was Michelle, Joshua Graham's girlfriend. Clarice gestured for the young woman to come in and she gaped at Clarice as she entered.  
  
"Oh you're gorgeous," Michelle smiled and pushed an errant short blonde strand from her face. "Wow look at you!"  
  
"Thank you Michelle," Clarice beamed.  
  
"Pastor Bob asked if he could meet with you briefly before the ceremony," Michelle said, waving her hand in the air as she spoke. "And Will asked me to come ask you since he can't see the bride before the wedding and all that," she laughed. "Pastor Bob wants to bestow some kind of a blessing or something."  
  
"Tell him of course," Clarice smiled and moved to the vanity table to finish applying her makeup.  
  
Michelle nodded and slipped silently out the door. Over the last six months, Clarice had really taken a liking to the young woman. She was bright, good natured and easy going. She had accompanied Joshua on his summer visit to their home much to everyone's surprise and Clarice and Will had been able to get to know her fairly well. And she was actually now attending Georgetown University and often stopped in for a quick visit with her and Will on the weekends. Will found it immensely humorous and loved to tease Josh that he got to see Michelle more than Josh did.  
  
"I'm going to go make sure everything is ready," Ardelia said and squeezed Clarice's shoulder. "I'll be back in a while to help you with your vale."  
  
"Thank you so much Delia," Clarice smiled.  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
Clarice sat staring at her reflection for a moment. Ardelia had helped her put curlers in her now waist length red hair last night and today, the effect was gorgeous. The soft curls made her locks look almost angelic and she was glad she had taken Ardelia's advice to curl it. She picked up her lipstick, uncapped it, and twisted the barrel to raise the color. As she did, there was another soft knock at the door. Clarice glanced into the mirror as the door opened and she saw the Pastor enter slowly, dressed in his traditional clerical robes for the wedding. He closed the door behind him and Clarice went back to applying her lipstick.  
  
"Hello Pastor Bob," she said brightly.  
  
"Hello Clarice."  
  
At the sound of the voice with the slight metallic rasp, Clarice immediately dropped her lipstick and it clattered to the floor. She peered closer at the figure reflected in the mirror. She would know that voice anywhere, awake or asleep, and her mouth gaped open. "Dr. Lecter," she whispered and turned around quickly.  
  
"In the flesh," he smiled at her tenderly.  
  
Dr. Hannibal Lecter moved slowly to where Clarice sat, his eyes never once leaving her. He was in awe of her beauty, after all it had been over a year since he had last seen her and while during that time he had worked to let her go from within his heart, being back in her presence now, he was awe-struck. He noticed that she had let her hair grow long again and the soft curls that now tumbled around her shoulders took his breath away. She seemed to have grown even more beautiful than his memory palace allowed him and his soul sank to its knees in reverence although he forced his body to remain upright as he came to stand in front of her.  
  
Clarice watched him approach and felt the blood drain from her face. She shook her head. "No, that's not possible. I shot you. I saw your lifeless body. I...I...I killed you," she stammered.  
  
Dr. Lecter shook his head gently, his eyes never leaving her face. "I merely allowed you to put your nightmares to rest." He paused. "But you are correct in a sense. While you did not kill me I was clinically dead for five minutes. You remember the doctor that came into the surgical room while you were there? He is a former patient of mine and incidentally the same surgeon that reattached my left hand. He just so happens to volunteer his expertise at the trauma center on certain weekends and I contacted him to lay plans shortly before you and Agent Williams arrived at the Mental Hospital. The plan was simple really, he would stop my heart while you were being summoned to the surgical room and once you had verified that I was indeed dead, he would bring me back to life."  
  
Clarice could do nothing but stare in disbelief at Dr. Lecter's face, as if he were a ghost. She could not believe that he was standing before her and the words coming out of his mouth were nearly unfathomable. A million questions ran through her mind. What about the surgeon's staff in the surgical room? What about the body buried in Dr. Lecter's grave? What about..? She shook her head again to clear it, to formulate words from the thoughts that swirled within her mind.  
  
"But I saw the blood when I shot you," she said incredulously. "You were bleeding."  
  
"Clarice," he smiled. "It was simple. Think about it; a bullet proof vest packed with stage blood. The ER staff had no idea that I had not really been shot as I was wearing the chest and back skin of the homeless man who had been residing in my former cell over the vest. Once I was taken to the OR, my former patient took over and everything went according to plan. I knew that you would not believe I was dead unless you saw my body for yourself. Plus I needed to 'die' in order to regain my life and keep the FBI from tracking me. Once you had seen me and left the room, I was brought back, Clarice. I was reborn if you will. An ingenious plan, don't you agree?" He smiled his sly smile and cocked one eyebrow.  
  
Clarice just stared at him, shock and disbelief etched over her face. She was utterly speechless.  
  
'How does he manage to accomplish things like this?' she wondered to herself. She supposed a huge part of it was luck, intelligence and luck.  
  
Dr. Lecter smiled gently. He knew this was difficult for her. He knelt down in front of her. "Let me ask you this Clarice," he said quietly. "Since my 'death' over a year ago, have your nightmares stopped? Have the lambs at last finally stopped screaming?"  
  
A single tear slipped down her cheek and she closed her eyes briefly. She nodded and looked back up at him. "Yes," she whispered.  
  
Dr. Lecter smiled again and paused. "And once again, because of my help you have advanced within the ranks of your beloved FBI. I particularly enjoyed your statement to the media when you changed the name of Behavioral Science to Investigative Support Unit and you stated you were 'getting rid of the BS,'" he chuckled wryly. "You amused me immensely Clarice. Yes, you and the mindhunters under your tutelage are becoming quite adept at tracking down your prey. How many within the last year? Thirteen wasn't it? Very well done little Starling. The 'bad guys' do not stand a chance with you in charge." Dr. Lecter paused then and grew serious. "Have you noticed Clarice that once again I helped your advancement?" He nodded. "Yes, once again I selflessly helped you to advance and yet once again I am given nothing in return for it."  
  
Clarice watched him silently. He was up to his old mind games and she refused to be drawn back in. Dr. Lecter saw her jaw set stubbornly and smiled. They watched one another for a few moments and one subject lingered between them, both refusing to be the first to broach it for the can of worms it would open. Finally, Lecter's curiosity bested him.  
  
"And how is Will these days?" he asked quietly. "I understand he is healing quite nicely physically. And what of his mental state? Have his demons finally been exorcised? Again thanks to my death?"  
  
"Yes," she whispered again, meeting his gaze.  
  
Dr. Lecter closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. His hatred for Will Graham had not abated in the slightest and he had hoped that the man was not doing well. He sighed and supposed that any man that was lucky enough to be loved by Clarice Starling would be doing well no matter what. Dr. Lecter had not planned to reveal himself to Clarice this soon after his death but when he had read in the papers of hers and Will's intended wedding, he knew he could not stay away, despite the danger he now put himself in. He had to see her. He could not keep away, much like the moth to the flame before it is consumed completely by that to which it was so helplessly drawn.  
  
"You love him," he whispered. It was a statement not a question but when he opened his eyes he saw she was nodding anyway.  
  
"With all my heart, body, and soul I do. He and I are the same," she said softly.  
  
Dr. Lecter caressed her face gently and he leaned in until he was mere inches from her. There was one final thing he had to know despite the fact that it would be painful for him either way she answered. "Clarice, please at least be honest with yourself right now if not with me. When Will smiles at you, when he kisses you, his tongue in your mouth.."  
  
"Don't do this," Clarice pleaded softly, her eyes beseeching his.  
  
"...when he puts his hands on you, touching you, caressing you, when he makes love to you, making you moan..."  
  
"Please, Dr. Lecter, don't," she begged him and two more tears slipped down her cheek and she closed her eyes as if to ward off his words.  
  
"...making you whisper his name, making you dig your nails into his back, making you cum, as they so vulgarly say," he paused and cocked one eyebrow. "Do you ever imagine even for one fleeting instant that it's me Clarice?"  
  
Clarice desperately fought back the tears that threatened to overtake her. She re-opened her eyes and looked into his. "Never," she whispered with conviction and Hannibal Lecter knew she was telling the truth.  
  
His head drooped slightly and for an instant Clarice could see the pain in his eyes but then he brightened, masking it. "You will now," he whispered to her and smiled slyly. "Clarice, all I've ever wanted for you was happiness." He sighed softly and gritted his teeth. "Will Graham makes you happy, I cannot deny that, happier than I have ever seen you before, Clarice. And you believe that he is the first man since your father to love you unconditionally. But you are errant Clarice." He leaned in until his lips softly brushed her ear and he felt her quiver involuntarily. "He is the second man since your father to love you unconditionally," he whispered.  
  
She closed her eyes and the tears slipped down her cheeks freely now. She let them come, unabashedly. "I could never love you," she whispered back. "Your love may make you a gentleman, but your crimes make you a monster."  
  
"The proverbial beauty and the beast, eh?" Dr. Lecter smiled sadly.  
  
She opened her eyes and shook her head. "No, more like Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde."  
  
Lecter smiled at her brave wit and caressed her hands. He was in ecstasy just hearing her soft drawl again as she spoke to him but he knew his time here must be limited. He leaned back in, put his right hand behind her head and pulled her closer to him. "Say my name Clarice," he beseeched her, his eyes boring into hers. "I beg you, whisper it just once. In all the years I have known you, you have not once uttered my given name."  
  
She pulled away roughly and looked into his eyes, but remained silent. Clarice shook off his grasp, rose and stood next to the vanity so that the stool she had been sitting on was in between the two of them as if it might offer a boundary he could not cross. She wiped her faced and crossed her arms stubbornly around her chest. She could not believe nor did she understand the emotions coursing through her body. Essentially, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, the man who had taught her so much about herself and the world, had returned from the dead and part of her was relieved to see him alive. Part of her had ached to hear his voice again, one more time. And a part of her now responded carnally to his touch and the urgency in his last statement and she was disgusted with herself. She shook her head. She hated this man, she must remember that. But she also cared for him. He knew her so well and he had always brought out the best in her. Clarice was agonizingly torn.  
  
Dr. Lecter smiled gently and moved to stand in front of her, absently kicking the stool away. He could sense her torment and he ached to console her. He moved in close until their bodies brushed lightly together and he twirled a small strand of her chestnut hair around his right forefinger. "In another lifetime Clarice," he whispered, "you and I might have been lovers."  
  
Clarice Starling looked at him with her tear stained face and spoke before considering the possible consequences of her words. "Yes we might have," she whispered back huskily. "Hannibal."  
  
At the sound of her whispering his name, Dr. Lecter took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, his tongue searching hers out. He picked her up and sat her down gently on the vanity. One hand tugged at the small buttons on the back of her gown's bodice while the other gripped her hair gently. He loosened the bodice and leaned down to gently suckle her one exposed breast. He lifted the skirt of her gown and tenderly but firmly parted her legs, running his hands up to her thighs, and she pressed into him, moaning involuntarily into his mouth. She allowed his hands to freely roam her body while they kissed urgently.  
  
Then Clarice thought of his hands on her and an image of Will on the cross, broken and bleeding, flashed through her mind. Dr. Lecter's hands had done that as well. She loved Will intensely and here she was betraying him with the man he despised most. What the hell was she doing? She pulled away and looked at Dr. Lecter, her former resolve back and stronger than ever. No matter how she might care for him or the carnal emotions he evoked within her, she had to remember Jack Crawford's words and they now echoed in her mind: 'Never forget what he is.' She re-positioned her dress and looked at him.  
  
"I can't do this. I could never love you," Clarice repeated. "I'm sorry but you and I cannot be together." Clarice paused and softly touched his cheek. "You must let me go, Hannibal," she said softly. "Please, let me go."  
  
A single tear slipped slowly out of each eye and ran down his cheeks. It was the first time that he had ever allowed another being to see his emotions unmasked. Her reaction is what he had expected but it pained him nonetheless and he was for a moment helpless to control it. He smiled painfully at her and nodded his head reluctantly toward the door.  
  
"Then let me go as well," he whispered. "This is what I ask in return for once again helping you to advance. Quid pro quo, Clarice." He smiled sadly.  
  
She looked at him and a small sad smile played on her lips in remembrance of the phrase. "But if I promise to let you go, keeping your faked death a secret and breaking my oath to the FBI, you must also promise me something. Promise me you'll leave Will alone. If you truly love me, you will not take the love of my life away from me as you've already attempted to do." She paused, unsure how he would handle the next thing that she must tell him and gripped his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. "If you truly love me, you will not take my baby's father away."  
  
Dr. Lecter closed his eyes, his heart breaking at her words.  
  
'I should have castrated him,' he thought bitterly. 'Before I crucified Will, I should have castrated him.'  
  
He reached his hand out and placed it on Clarice's still flat stomach. "Ah," he said hopefully, "the real reason for the wedding then?"  
  
"No," Clarice shook her head. "Will and I love each other, Hannibal. We have been planning this wedding for months. We only found out about the baby last week."  
  
A heavy silence permeated the room as they regarded one another. He mused that no wonder she glowed. She was truly happy; she was finally securing everything she had always wanted and so desperately deserved. Dr. Lecter nodded slowly, seemingly making up his mind.  
  
"I promise that I will not call upon you ever again, Clarice, except upon your request" he paused and sighed heavily. "And as long as Will is good to you, I will not call upon him either, you have my word. But God help him the instant he mistreats you or your child." He looked into her eyes and smiled sadly. He took her hand and kissed it gently. "This is goodbye Clarice Starling," he said simply. He stood and smiled down at her.  
  
"Goodbye Hannibal." Clarice closed her eyes briefly and forced her face to remain as stone, revealing none of the emotions that twisted within her because she knew that once he walked out of that door, he would never come back.  
  
Dr. Hannibal Lecter walked to the door, opened it, and turned back. A smile played on his lips, and he was seemingly his old self once more. "And Clarice, do not fret, I will not tell Will of our kiss, of our moment of abandon. I will leave that to your discretion." With that, he slipped quietly out the door.  
  
Clarice fell to her knees and her emotions overwhelmed her. She began to sob into her hands. After a few minutes, Ardelia walked through the door. She saw Clarice crying on the floor and rushed over to her, putting her arms around her.  
  
"Claire what's wrong?" She asked. "What the hell happened?"  
  
Clarice's tears subsided and she wiped her eyes. "It's okay Del," she sniffled. "Just hormones, you know."  
  
Ardelia moved to grab the box of Kleenex from the vanity. "Hormones my ass. What happened, Clarice?"  
  
"I guess I was just really touched by the Pastor's words," Clarice shrugged and looked her friend in the eye. "That's all," she said with finality.  
  
Ardelia looked at the stool on its side across the room and she noticed the disarrayed buttons on Clarice's gown. Her brow furrowed but she knew better than to push Clarice on the subject. "Do you want me to get Will?" She asked softly.  
  
Clarice shook her head, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. "No," she smiled. "But would you mind helping me with my makeup again?"  
  
"Of course," Ardelia smiled gently. "And everyone out there is ready when you are."  
  
Clarice nodded. "I can't wait." She smiled happily.  
  
To be continued. Please review. 


	24. Chapter 24: Scars

Author's Note: Come on guys, did you REALLY think I could kill off Hannibal Lecter?! Well at least not in this fic!! This chapter is for Kaitlyn who wanted more smut although it may not be as much as you'd want, I'm trying to keep this fic from going NC-17! LOL! And again, thank you MC.  
  
Chapter 24: Scars  
  
Clarice Starling-Graham rolled over onto her stomach, on the soft over- sized beach towel and decided she'd have to enjoy sleeping on her stomach while she still could. She laid her head on her arms, felt the hot sand warming her front underneath the towel and began to doze again with the warm sun's rays caressing her bare back. She sighed contentedly in her sleep and smiled. The late afternoon sun was just beginning its descent below the rim of the ocean and it began to cast a deep orange glow over the beach. It was the third day of their honeymoon in the Bahamas and neither Clarice nor Will could remember ever feeling this relaxed and content.  
  
Will Graham, freshly showered and clad only in a pair of jean shorts, strode out onto the beach where Clarice lay with just the slightest of limps. His physical abilities and strengths seemed to increase daily and he knew it wouldn't be long before he could walk with no limp at all. He carried a tall frosty glass of ice cold non-alcoholic sparkling apple cider. Clarice could not drink alcohol because of the baby and it was better for him if he didn't because of his prior addictions. He gazed down at Clarice's bare back, pink in the late afternoon sun, and smiled. He was so lucky to have her and he could not believe that she had chosen to love him. He owed her his life twice over. Will lowered himself down on his right side onto her towel and she stirred as he pressed up against her to keep out of the sand. He took a sip of the cider and set the glass in the sand above their heads. Clarice turned her head to look at him and smiled softly, her eyes blinking in the light. Will smoothed the hair away from her face and kissed her forehead.  
  
"I didn't know you were asleep, love. I'm sorry to have awakened you," he whispered as he ran his fingers tantalizingly up and down her back.  
  
"I'm not sorry," she purred and planted small kisses down his neck to his shoulder.  
  
Clarice rolled over almost fully onto her back to face him, sucking on his neck, marking him. As she rolled over, she exposed her bare breasts and Will cupped one gently, moaning at her sucking and rubbing his thumb over her nipple with care as her breasts were swollen and tender because of the pregnancy. He sighed softly as he leaned in to kiss her neck and tickle her ear with his tongue.  
  
"Does that hurt?" Will asked softly, referring to the hand stroking her breast as he nuzzled her neck.  
  
"Mmmm," she whispered. "No. Besides you know what they say, there's a fine line between pleasure and pain," she grinned mischievously and lifted her head to kiss his mouth deeply, their tongues engaged.  
  
Will planted small suckling kisses down her neck, her chest, on each breast, and made his way down her stomach, over her navel, until he reached the black fabric of her bikini bottom. He gripped one side of it and began to tug it down as his tongue snaked out across her thigh. Clarice closed her eyes and moaned softly but a nagging issue in the back of her mind would not let her fully enjoy her new husband's attentions.  
  
"Will, wait," Clarice said quietly. "Come back up here. I need to talk to you."  
  
Will replaced the strap of her bikini and scooted up on the towel until they were face to face. He leaned on his side with one hand supporting his head and looked into her troubled eyes. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Something happened the day we got married," she said evenly although she could not look at him and instead stared up at the clear twilight sky. "Something that I should have told you about right after it happened but I was too ashamed to."  
  
"What is it?" Will asked, concerned. "Are you alright? Is the baby alright?"  
  
Clarice looked at him and gently touched his face. He was such a sweet man. "We're fine. You know how much I love you right?"  
  
"Yes," Will replied slowly, suddenly afraid of what she had to tell him. "What happened Clarice?"  
  
She gazed back up at the sky and took a deep breath. "Hannibal Lecter is not really dead."  
  
Will sat up straight. "What?"  
  
"He came to see me before the wedding. He was dressed as Pastor Bob so I guess no one noticed him. And then he was gone." She shrugged.  
  
Will stood up and paced the sand next to the towel, muttering obscenities to himself. "Goddamn fucking son of a bitch! Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He paused and looked down at his wife. "But how? You said he was dead. You saw his body. How?"  
  
Clarice sat up and crossed her legs Indian style. She shielded her eyes from the setting sun as she looked up at Will. "He said the surgeon was a former patient of his. Lecter wore a bullet proof vest stuffed with packets of stage blood so that it looked like I actually shot him. Once he was in the OR, the surgeon had a nurse summon me and while she did, he stopped Lecter's heart. Apparently after I'd verified that he was dead and left the room, the surgeon brought him back to life." She shrugged. "That's all he told me." Clarice's gaze held at the jagged scar on the left side of Will's stomach before moving to the small circular scars on his wrists, his feet, and then finally stopping at the gap on his left hand where he was missing the pinky finger. Guilt gnawed at her gut, she should have told Will sooner; he deserved to know.  
  
Will sighed heavily, ran a hand through his still wet hair, and looked out at the crystal blue ocean and the setting reddish-orange sun beyond, his eyes squinting. He stood there for a moment before shaking his head. "Fucking Houdini," he muttered and then looked at Clarice. "He's got to be the luckiest bastard I've ever seen. And he's definitely the trickiest."  
  
Clarice nodded and looked down at the towel, absently picking at it. Will sat down cross legged in front of her and took her hands in his.  
  
"Look at me," he said softly.  
  
Slowly Clarice lifted her head and gazed into Will's eyes.  
  
"What else did you two talk about?" He asked.  
  
"Not much," she paused. "My promotion, you and the baby mostly."  
  
"You told him about the baby?" Will closed his eyes and shook his head. He re-opened them and looked at her. "And how did he handle that news?"  
  
"He wasn't happy, let's leave it at that," Clarice replied.  
  
"I bet."  
  
"And we traded," Clarice said softly. "His freedom for your safety."  
  
"His freedom?" Will asked incredulously. "You told him you'd let him go? You're going to hide this from the Bureau? You're just going to go on pretending that he's dead?"  
  
"Yes," Clarice said defensively. "He gave me his word that he would leave you alone so I gave my word that I would leave him alone."  
  
"You believe he'll keep that promise? Clarice, did he keep his promise from years ago that he wouldn't call on you?" Will asked angrily. "Besides, even if he does stay away from us, do you honestly think he'll never kill another person? Can you honestly tell me you could live with that on your conscious?"  
  
Clarice sighed and put her head in her hands, her hair swinging down in her face. "I will cross that bridge when and if it comes," she said quietly. "I don't know what to say. It seemed like the right decision at the time, Will. Please don't judge me, you weren't there."  
  
"I wish I would've been," Will said hotly. "I'd have killed the bastard with my own two hands. He'd be dead for sure this time. I'd fucking make sure of it."  
  
Clarice sighed again. She was beginning to think that telling Will had been a bad idea. The problem was they kept no secrets from each other and it had been eating her up inside keeping this from him. Since her encounter with Dr. Lecter, every time she had looked at Will, every time they had kissed, every time he had touched her, every time they had made love, Clarice had been tortured by the secret she carried until the guilt had been too much for her and she knew she had to tell him.  
  
Will looked at her and sighed as well. "Claire, I'm sorry. I'm sorry it's just that after what he did to us and Josh," he shook his head. "He nearly killed me and Josh and he took advantage of you while you were asleep. I swear to God, when I think about him with his hands and mouth on you I swear I could just kill him."  
  
"Will," Clarice said instantly and took his hands. "He's gone. He's out of our lives for good. Just let it go okay? Please?"  
  
Will looked at her, studying her face, and she lowered her eyes, unable to withstand the scrutiny. Will's heart dropped.  
  
"He touched you again didn't he?" He asked softly.  
  
Clarice looked at him and nodded slowly.  
  
"Christ," he muttered and put his head in both his hands. He could not believe that they were going through this. He could not believe that his wife of three days had already been unfaithful to him. And she had been unfaithful with the very man that had tortured and nearly killed him and his son. He struggled to understand where her feelings for the monster came from. Then he forced himself to try and see Lecter from her point of view. He forced himself to remember how charming Dr. Lecter could be, how human he could be when he wanted to be and Will put his hand on her shoulder, trying to understand. "Clarice I love you but just please tell me that you didn't willingly let him touch you."  
  
Clarice stared out at the ocean. Her silence told him everything and Will hung his head again.  
  
"So what does this mean Clarice?" He asked dejectedly.  
  
"It means nothing," she whispered.  
  
"The hell it does," Will said angrily, his voice slowly rising. "You've told me over and over again that you don't have any romantic feelings for Lecter but now you tell me that on our wedding day you essentially made out with him. How do you think that makes me feel?" He sighed and rubbed his hand over his chin, trying to calm down. "Look, I'm just trying to understand Clarice. Please help me understand," he replied softly and leaned in to kiss her forehead. Will watched as tears slid slowly down her cheeks and he wiped them away with his hands, feeling like a shit for making her cry but also feeling hurt at the same time.  
  
"I'm sorry Will," she sniffled. "My God I'm so sorry."  
  
He took her in his arms and held her close. He kissed the top of her head. "Can you just tell me why?"  
  
"I don't really know," she said into his neck. "He's been a shadow, a phantom, that loomed over my life for so many years like a bad habit or an addiction that I could not shake and then I ended up killing him. That hurt and I grieved. I thought I'd finally come to grips with having killed him and that I could finally bid him goodbye but when I saw him a few days ago, standing before me..." she trailed off and sat back, looking at Will. "I don't know. Part of me was relieved to see him again and part of me was horrified." She paused and sighed. "I was in shock and I wasn't thinking straight. Yes I let him kiss me and I kissed him back. Yes I let him touch me..."  
  
Will closed his eyes and inhaled sharply.  
  
"But I was absolutely repulsed by my behavior and I quickly put a stop to it." Clarice held his face in both her hands and he sadly met her gaze. "All I can say is I'm so sorry and I swear to you it won't ever happen again. I don't love him and I never will. I will work the rest of my life to make this up to you, I promise. I love you, I need you, I want you, and I'm so sorry for having betrayed your trust. Please, please forgive me."  
  
Will watched as a tear slipped down her cheek once more.  
  
"Please," she whispered. "I love you Will. I'm sorry."  
  
Will looked at her pain-stricken face and could see in her eyes that she meant every word she said. Still, the thought of Lecter touching his Clarice, his wife, burned him up. When it came to Clarice, he tried not to be possessive but she was his and his alone. The fact that Lecter twice now had attempted to take what was his killed him and he felt threatened. The age-old human emotion of jealousy boiled up within him and he felt a need to stake claim to her again. He leaned in and kissed her mouth deeply before working his way to her ear. "It tears me up to think about you and him, kissing and touching," he whispered as he nibbled her ear.  
  
"I don't want to be kissed and touched by him," Clarice replied throatily. "Just you. Only you. Touch me now Will," she whispered as she moved his hand up to her breast.  
  
Will shut away his hurt and anger; he knew he would forgive her and they would move forward, not looking back, not speaking of Hannibal Lecter again for a very long time. As Will lay her down gently back onto the towel and tugged off her bikini, his mouth took possession of hers. Clarice pushed urgently at his shorts to take them off. His hand gently pinched her nipple and she moaned.  
  
"God yes, touch me," she whispered.  
  
"I love you, oh I love you," Will murmured as he closed his eyes, plunging his face into her hair and losing himself in its scent.  
  
Clarice ran her thumb along the scar on his stomach as she so often did when their bodies were close. It was a part of him that she had grown quite fond of; it reminded her of the past and what they had both gone through before finding solace in one another. Will carried most of his scars from Dr. Lecter physically while Clarice carried them emotionally and she fervently hoped that despite the fact he was still alive, the pain that accompanied their scars would continue to heal.  
  
Clarice's reverie was pleasantly interrupted when Will parted her legs as he climbed on top of her. He slipped quickly inside her and they both gasped in delight. As the sun slipped below the horizon, the soft cries of pleasure filled the air and mingled with the cries of the birds at flight.  
  
To be continued. Please review.  
  
Shelley: I'm glad you're enjoying the story despite the fact there is no Hannibal/Clarice coupling. As far as the GD being portrayed as 'mean and jealous', I have only one thing to say: never forget what he is. And no, even this chapter is not the end, there's just a little bit more. Thank you so very much for reading and reviewing.  
  
Saavik: Thank you so much for your review. And yes, the girls and I had a wonderful and much deserved holiday, thanks for asking.  
  
ducki: Thank you. I thought the resolution worked well myself. Thanks for reading and reviewing.  
  
LoT: I'm glad I've evoked so many emotions in you during this fic. Yes, I know, the ending is not what many people want. Yes, the GD is alive and sort of well. He is heartbroken but time mends all wounds right? LOL! Thank you so much for your continued reading and reviewing even with your busy schedule.  
  
Kurt: I still love that, "Extra Strength Super No Doze"!!! I always look forward to your reviews. Thanks for reading.  
  
Guber: Thank you so much, that is so sweet of you to say that your heart ached during this chapter. Really, that is an immense compliment to me. As far as Clarice being happy because she's pregnant or because she loves Will, she's happy about both. But there's more to come, so stay tuned! And thanks again for reading and reviewing.  
  
Morbid: You just make me laugh with your sweet and wonderful reviews! I particularly enjoyed the line where you said you need to build a shrine to me!! And I'm the best thing since sliced toast?! Yes, you're going to Georgetown and there's more fun in store next chapter! And yes, Clarice and Will like you a lot. And you're welcome for saving Josh but he's only alive because of you - the real you, not the character you! Remember I told you my original storyline called for Josh's death? But you saved him. And again, you're welcome! Thanks so very much for your great reviews.  
  
Troesnaja: Thank you so much for your continued support. I enjoyed your review. Thanks.  
  
Hanni: Thanks for your review. Yes, I know that a lot of people did not like his 'death.' But he's back and fine, at least physically fine. Thanks again.  
  
magyarflower: Oh your review was so nice! Thank you so much for the comment that I should be rich and famous because of my writing. Although, I think I'll pass on the stalkers! And don't worry, I take no offense that you didn't like the end of the last chapter, everyone is entitled to their own opinions! Thanks so much again. 


	25. Chapter 25: Full Circle

Chapter 25: Full Circle  
  
Already numerous balloons and flowers adorned the birthing room of the Maternity Center Associates in Bethesda, Maryland despite the fact that little Serena Clarice Graham was only one hour old. Clarice had been in labor for fourteen strenuous hours but the ending result was a beautiful, red haired girl that weighed nearly eight pounds and was just over twenty one inches long. Already the general consensus was that Serena, who had been born just after midnight, looked like Clarice although she had acquired Will's crystal blue eyes and height, being long for a newborn.  
  
"She's absolutely beautiful," Joshua Graham said quietly as he cradled his new baby sister in his arms while she slept peacefully. He looked up at Clarice laying in bed and his father sitting on the edge of her bed holding her hand and smiled. "Good work you two."  
  
Will chuckled. "Thanks Josh."  
  
"Yes, thank you Josh," said Clarice and she closed her eyes. She was absolutely exhausted.  
  
Ardelia Mapp, standing next to Clarice's bed, leaned down and gently kissed Clarice's forehead. "I'm so proud of you Claire," she whispered. "You did an amazing job. Get some rest and we'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"Thanks Del," Clarice whispered and smiled gratefully up at her friend.  
  
"Congrats you two," Seth Williams smiled as he took Ardelia's hand and led her to the door.  
  
"Hey congrats to you two as well," Will said.  
  
Ardelia and Seth turned back and grinned simultaneously. "Thanks Will," Delia smiled. "Take good care of your gorgeous girls there."  
  
Will smiled back. "You know I will."  
  
The newly engaged pair exited the birthing room, quietly closing the door behind them, leaving Clarice, Will, Serena, Josh, and Michelle. Will, sitting on the edge of Clarice's bed, leaned in and kissed her lips lightly. He smiled at her and stroked her still damp hair off of her forehead. Clarice leaned her head into his hand and smiled tiredly.  
  
"I love you," he whispered.  
  
"I love you too," she said.  
  
"You were amazing today," Will replied.  
  
Clarice grinned. "Thanks but I certainly don't want to do that again any time soon."  
  
Will chuckled and kissed her again. "Definitely not," he laughed.  
  
Michelle stood over the chair that Josh occupied, looking down at him holding Serena. "She's so tiny," she marveled. "She's just a perfect little teeny-tiny person. Ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, a perfect little nose, and a cute little mouth. Oh and look at those tiny ears," she squealed with delight. "She's just too cute!"  
  
"You can baby sit any time you'd like to Michelle," Will smiled.  
  
Michelle giggled in acceptance. Clarice slowly nodded her approval, closed her eyes, and almost instantly began to doze. Will stood up, took Serena from Josh's arms, and laid her down carefully in the hospital bassinette, covering her up tightly with the blanket. He turned back to Josh and Michelle.  
  
"Hey you guys should go," Will whispered. "Clarice needs to sleep and you two have classes in the morning." He paused as Josh stood up and they embraced in a big bear hug, slapping each other's backs. "But thanks for coming out."  
  
"I wouldn't have missed it dad," Josh smiled.  
  
"It's good to have you so close, Josh," Will said.  
  
"It is," Josh agreed and smiled at his father. Josh Graham had transferred to Georgetown after his first year at UCLA. He had wanted to be closer to his father and Clarice certainly, but mostly to Michelle.  
  
Will watched as Josh and Michelle kissed lightly, and he smiled. They were young and in love and had their whole lives ahead of them. It was a very exciting time for them but Will did not envy them in the slightest. Soon they would have to decide what they thought they wanted to do for the rest of their lives and Will was so glad to be past that point. Often, Will asked himself if he would change anything if given the chance to do it all over again. He decided that the only thing he would do differently would be to have been a better father to Josh. But he would change nothing else. He had a talent for getting inside the minds of mad men and he knew that because of it he had saved countless lives. No, if given the chance, he would not do much differently, despite all the pain, despite all the heartache, and despite all the fear it had caused him.  
  
Michelle moved to hug Will tightly then went to Serena's bassinette and gently kissed her forehead. "Can we stop by tomorrow for a bit? Just to say hi?" She asked.  
  
"Of course," Will nodded. He looked at Clarice and Serena both sleeping soundly. "Hey I'll walk you two down to the car," he said. "I need some air."  
  
"Okay," Josh said.  
  
Will walked out of the room behind Josh and Michelle who had their arms around each other and closed the door quietly. The only sounds in the room were the heavy breathing of mother and child as they slept peacefully.  
  
Several moments later, Dr. Hannibal Lecter slipped quietly into the room. The mingled scents of antiseptic, blood, after-birth, and sweat met his delicate nostrils. He looked around the lush birthing room with its rich decorations and furnishings and smiled. This was the place he would have envisioned for his beloved Clarice to give birth in. The entire ordeal took place in one room from labor to delivery to recovery. The birthing center allowed family and friends to remain in the room with the laboring mother if she so desired which often produced a calming effect for her. Dr. Lecter smiled gently as he watched Clarice's chest rise and fall steadily and wished he had been able to be here and hold her hand through it all.  
  
He moved silently to her side and ran his hand over her sweat-matted hair. He leaned down and planted small kisses on her forehead.  
  
"Clarice," he whispered and closed his eyes as he rested his head against hers. He told himself that he was here to call upon the infant and not Clarice, therefore he was not technically breaking his promise to her that he would never again call upon her.  
  
He remained that way for a moment when a little squeak from the stirring baby interrupted him. He opened his eyes and straightened up. Dr. Lecter walked curiously to the bassinette and peered in. He gazed at Clarice's daughter and felt his eyes beginning to moisten. She was absolutely exquisite, just like her mother. Slowly and carefully, he picked up the still sleeping infant and held her closely to his chest. He peered at the name card on her bassinette.  
  
"Serena," he whispered, drawing out the 'S' sound at the beginning of her name much as he did with the ending of her mother's name.  
  
Dr. Lecter held the baby out from him a little way so he could better study her. He noted her little orange baby fuzz that covered her head and smiled. She would grow to have her mother's beautiful hair. He looked at her face, the high cheek bones and regal nose and smiled.  
  
"Luckily for you, you received your mother's looks," he whispered to the baby.  
  
Serena stirred and stretched, opening her eyes for a moment and blinking several times. Dr. Lecter was taken aback by how blue they were.  
  
"Well I suppose you had to inherit something of your father's," he muttered. "And you're going to be tall as well aren't you love?"  
  
Serena gurgled softly in her throat and fell back asleep. Both she and her mother were exhausted after the labor and delivery. Dr. Lecter smiled tenderly, kissed her forehead, and laid her back in her bassinette. He glanced at his watch and knew he needed to make his exit before Will returned. He bent over the sleeping baby.  
  
"Serena," Dr. Lecter whispered. "You are the product of a woman I cherish above all things. I will always be here if you need me. I will watch over you and protect you, even from your parents if needs be, for as long as I am alive."  
  
Dr. Lecter smiled down at Serena and then moved to sit next to Clarice on the bed. He watched her sleep for just a moment before kissing her forehead lightly. She did not stir.  
  
"I will always love you Clarice," he whispered. "And I will always be there to assist you and your daughter. No matter what else may be going on in my life, at the moment you need me, I will be there. You are the light of my life and as difficult as it is for me, I will continue to let you believe that you are truly happy with Will." He kissed her forehead again. "I know you did wonderfully today Clarice, despite how difficult child birth is. Like every other challenge in your life, you met it head on without fear. You are an amazing woman Section Chief Clarice M. Starling."  
  
Hannibal Lecter refused to call her by her loathsome married name. He leaned in for one last kiss, gently brushing her lips with his.  
  
"Good bye love. Take care of yourself and your beautiful daughter."  
  
As he strode to the door with one final look at Serena, a low sweet whisper from Clarice met his ears. It was so quiet that he almost did not here it.  
  
"Good bye Hannibal."  
  
The End.  
  
Fin.  
  
Done.  
  
Over.  
  
That's all folks!  
  
Author's Note: This is it! The last chapter! I have to say how wonderful and amazing you all are faithful readers. I have had so much fun writing this story and your reviews have been great. I'm so grateful for all of your support, encouragement, ideas, and constructive criticisms. Special thanks must go to MC for your tireless support and efforts; to Morbid Angel for agreeing very enthusiastically to be the model of Michelle, Joshua Graham's girlfriend (with the exception of the cheerleader bit!); and thanks to my family and friends for putting up with listening to chapter ideas and helping me when I got stuck. Thank you all SO much and I love ya. Now please review!! Once last time!! Come on, you know you wanna!! Please, please, please! 


	26. Chapter 26

Afterward:

Author's Note: I just wanted to say "thanks" to everyone who continues to read this story and review even though I finished this story almost five years ago. I had so much fun writing and researching this story and I have thoroughly enjoyed the reviews!! Thank you so much!!


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